


The Truth: Echoes Beneath Shadowlight

by CultureisDarkBeer, Ms31x129



Series: Rooted In Friendship [5]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alien Mythology/Religion, Apocalypse, Canon Compliant, Dana Scully Angst, Domestic Fox Mulder/Dana Scully, F/M, Hurt Fox Mulder, Post-Apocalypse, Post-Canon, Sex, The X-Files Revival, William | Jackson van de Kamp is Fox Mulder's Child
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:20:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 46,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22480915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CultureisDarkBeer/pseuds/CultureisDarkBeer, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ms31x129/pseuds/Ms31x129
Summary: Set after MSIV to give closure to loose ends - the virus, William, the baby, Mulder and Scully's relationship.MSR and sexually explicit content
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Series: Rooted In Friendship [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1037270
Comments: 82
Kudos: 54





	1. Andromeda

(The "Previously on The X-Files," portion contains spoilers for the fic, Rooted in Friendship, you can skip to the start of this story, beginning at the the area noted as Chapter 1, at any time.)

Previously, on the X-Files...

Mulder took a deep breath and Scully noticed his hands beginning to shake. Her heart leapt into her throat. "and it would mean everything to me to have the honor to call you my wife.”

Mulder took the ring box from his right pocket and made his way down on one knee, cracking and popping as it bent, irritating scar tissue as it supported his weight at home plate. “Dana Katherine Scully, will you marry me?”

Dana Mulder. If that thought hadn't sent her running... Not that she had to change her name. They didn’t need marriage, didn’t need a ceremony or a piece of paper or fancy nothingness or people to witness. She knew the only meaning was what they decided to put behind it, but she understood why and she understood that they needed to give each other what neither of them had before - simplicity. peace. prolonged happiness. Some color inside the lines.

Scully didn’t realize how much time had past as these thoughts ran through her head until Mulder said, “Scully, my knees aren’t getting any younger.”

A tear ran down her face at the relief, the anxiety, and the honesty that she wanted this as much as he did and much more than she let herself feel. Then she really started to break down which made tears spill from him, and she let out a breathy laugh and said, “Yes Fox William Mulder, I will marry you.”

*****The Wedding*****

It wasn’t until the minister prompted them to read the vows they had prepared for one another that they both snapped back to reality.

“Scully, you have always been my constant and my touchstone. My one in five billion… or whatever it is these days. My light in the darkness that’s always seemed to find you and me, as much it may continue to try, I am choosing you, for better or for worse,” Mulder’s voice started to break as tears fell freely down Scully’s cheeks. “You had me from the moment you first walked into my office twenty-six years ago and now you’ll have all of me, forever.”

It wasn’t just his words that made her a believer, but his actions that truly convinced her they were made for one another. Hearing his love verbalized in this manner was almost foreign to her ears as they almost always communicated wordlessly.

“I once said that the best relationships, the ones that last, are frequently the ones that are rooted in friendship. That one day you look at the person and see something more than you did the night before, like a switch has been flicked somewhere. And the person who was just a friend is suddenly the only person you can ever imagine yourself with.”

Scully paused a moment as Mulder regarded her with a grin, yet his eyes betrayed his emotions.

“That person is you, Mulder. It always has been… even in the moments of most extreme duress and uncertainty, your stubbornness never fails to remind me why I fell in love with you. That’s why I followed you and why I would do it all over again. I don’t want to be married to a brain surgeon or to be Kersh’s boss. I want to be with you, Mulder. For better or for worse.”

Her voice was as steady as she could make it for her own part. Tears ran silently down her cheeks for a lot of it, but Mulder held it together for the most part. That is, right until the end, when the minister was reciting a small part Mulder decided to add. It was a quote from Benediction of the Apaches:

"Now you will feel no rain, for each of you will be shelter to the other. Now you will feel no cold, for each of you will be warmth to the other. Now there is no more loneliness for you."

Mulder’s gaze never wavered from hers, even as they filled with tears, the tears swiftly overflowing, running down his cheeks before the minister had even finished the line. Scully reached up and softly wiped them away with her hands. It was only fair. He had been quietly drying her tears since they met. 

“By the power vested in me, by the American Marriage Ministries and the state of Virginia, I now pronounce you… Husband and Wife!”

*****The Baby*****

Bill’s demeanor transformed instantly, his normal stiff exterior loosening as he held her. “She’s beautiful. She.. she looks a lot like both of you. Even her eyes.. She’s got that shit hazel of Mulder’s mixed with our family’s blue and it created the most beautiful turquoise coloring.” He looked up. “What’s her name?”

Scully rested at Mulder’s arm and he placed it around her. “We named her after our mom and grandmother. Margaret Katherine.”

Monica piped up, “Mulder and Scully together created from an empty darkness, pure light.” 

*****William/Jackson’s Origins*****

Squinting through her glasses Scully read the results. “Well, the first thing that jumps out- you have two distinct genomes. It could be part of your alien DNA not able to attach properly.. Well, now this is interesting...” Scully went through the paperwork and pointed at the values. “This strand.. You see how this matches? It is an obvious link. Your link to Cassandra is undeniable. You have the same alien DNA.. but interestingly, I don’t see evidence of that on this strand. Yet, your junk DNA is turned on even on this strand.”

William leaned in closer. “What is junk DNA? Cassandra? The old lady from Thanksgiving? That man’s wife? Jeff’s mother. What in holy fuck?”

“Watch your mouth,” Scully said pointing at him. “You’re not related to her. It’s a lot to explain.”

As Scully spoke she sifted through the papers. Something caught her eye and she stilled. Astonished. “Your junk DNA, is coded.. It’s a direct match to mine. I can see the indicators of a grafting on this strand, but the one that matches mine does not contain indicators.”

William stood beside her and followed her fingers as she pointed and posted each section on the wall, jotting notes as she went. He nodded and frowned. Wrinkled his brow and scratched at his head, she wasn’t certain of his actual understanding. She decided to continue anyway. “Now if you look at Mulder’s DNA.. the percentages are too low.” A lump gathered in Scully’s throat as her chest grew tight. “You two are not a match.” She took a breath and spoke as though she had just been stabbed. “He’s not your father.”

They stood in silence staring at it as though it might change something. Scully picked up the next set and slid it into the long clip beside the first. It was puzzling, but the results were very clear. “If you look at this report, your DNA and Mulder’s... This is a high percentage. Very interesting. William, Mulder is the father of this genome.”

“What does that mean? I don’t get anything you’re saying.” William spun around in frustration, his hands in his hair. Scully tried her best to explain.

“You’re a chimera William. Made up of several genotypes. DNA code for creating more than one individual.”

“I already know I’m a hybrid.”

“Yes, but what I’m looking at.. The only way this is possible is if I had more than one zygote inside of me during my pregnancy.” Scully walked over to the results posted at the beginning of the wall. “This,” she said pointing at William’s paper deciding to not even touch on percentages with him, “This is one of your complete DNA strands. It would be considered a match for myself and Cassandra with repaired or missing nucleotides from a third.”

“I-I don’t understand,” William said fixing his hair.

“You have DNA working independently from the other. Some chimeras might have two different eye colors or blood types. Organs that normally wouldn’t be able to survive inside a body are able to within these conditions.”

“How did this happen?” William asked, his eyes wide, his arms falling to his side.

“It’s been known to occur with fraternal twins. The fusion of the two usually happen at the blastocyst or zygote stages. It results in the development of an organism with intermingled cell lines.”

“How come I didn’t find this out before? Why didn’t you know about it?”

“That information wouldn’t be detectable in a paternity test. You only have one blood type, so with most exams doctors wouldn't question it.”

“What about the other doctors? With the tests?”

“Well, it’s like you said, they already knew you were an alien/human hybrid, so under that assumption they may have concluded it was intentionally part of your makeup.. Your design...”

“So which am I?”

“Which is your dominant DNA? It depends on a lot of factors, the fittest genes will win out, environment also plays a role…” Scully stopped mid sentence. Through the frosted glass she could see men standing on the other side. They were pressing their luck staying in the lab for such a long time. “William, I think it’s time to leave.”

*****Scully/William’s Connection/The Baby’s Origins*****

William kicked a rock down the sidewalk and pulled at his jacket. “When we had that connection, the visions of the future, could you, could you feel it was me?”

Scully lifted her chin. The sky was clear, the sun warming the cold November day. She grasped his sweaty hand. “I knew.”

He squinted her way. “What did you feel? From me..”

Scully let their arms naturally sway and he returned her smile. “I felt your fears, your terror, stress, frustration, anger.”

William's blue eyes connected with her own and they paused as they reached the car. “I felt you too. Your fears, your frustrations, and what you really wanted. I felt you love me, I know you wanted to raise me.”

Scully tightened her lip. “That’s past us William, but we can have something now, something special. When you’re ready, we can move forward.”

They got in the car and Scully started it up. William put his head in his hands then slapped at the dash. “I’m fucked up. Sometimes I hate myself. I feel like I give misery and pain to everyone I care about, but when I thought… when I felt how much you loved someone you didn’t even know and how much it hurt you..”

Scully was shocked. “That one vision, it had that effect on you?”

“It did. It wasn’t just that is was a bleak future, but you.. And Mulder. How desperate you were to save him. I had other visions. The inside of your house, you and him on the run from some Russian dudes and you two kicking some serious ass.. but I saw and I felt it through your eyes, how you looked at him and I saw the way he looked at you and all the pain I caused..” William’s chin started to quiver, his voice cracking, he ran a finger across his temple, “I felt like I could fix it.. I wanted to give.. wanted to give, something I knew my abilities were capable of. Something good out of all my fucked up destructive bullshit.. I wanted to give my mother a gift.”

“William, I’m not understanding you.”

“I’m the reason you were able… to get pregnant.”

*****The Dyson Clusters*****

A pillar of fiery smoke and dust, still boiling up from where the space shuttle lifted off, impaired The Scientist’s view. A series of new flashes broke out, rising and spreading the incandescent radioactive gasses, and then a great gush of flame rose. A column of pure hydrogen must have rushed up into the vacuum created by the explosion; the next blast of flame, in a lateral sheet, came at nearly ten thousand feet above the ground, great rags of fire, changing from red to violet and back through the spectrum to red again, went soaring away to dissipate in the upper atmosphere. The shuttle already breaking past the Karman line. It carried with it the chosen few to live among the Dyson Sphere. The Scientist pondered what they might be thinking; knowing this was the last time they would step foot on the planet. Was this the 144,000 the book of revelations prophesied or was Lucifer leading this crew?

*****On the Bridge/The My Struggle II Vision coming to Life w/a twist***** 

Barely conscious, using his last bit of energy, Mulder’s eyes rolled open and Scully joined his gaze, directing her own eyes towards the blinding light. An ARV hovered above, a door on the underside retracting, the spotlight closing in on Scully. She stared into it as a single black drop of liquid, perhaps no bigger than ink from a dropper, fell from the ship into Scully's eye, swirling around it, until the sclera, now indistinguishable from her pupil, went completely black.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/164474329@N02/49496916556/in/dateposted/)

*****Chapter 1 - Andromeda*****

A shudder ran through Scully as she stared up at the underside of an unidentified aircraft. Fear made her eyesight blur, anger of time lost that could be spent saving Mulder made her chest tight, then everything went fuzzy, her extremities, numb. Then, she saw…. Nothing. 

She felt her inner voice scream as inky tentacles ripped her away from her own physicality, floating her into a thick static. There was nothing to hold onto as she traveled away, the static transforming to stark jagged lines of blood and arced light, forming a bizarre web of overlapping pictures of her life, personal and professional, childhood and those with Mulder, all playing on an ever moving reel.

It was distracting, but her pull to save Mulder was greater. Her heartbeat pounded loudly against the space where she was trapped, the only greater sound resonating from indiscernible machinery coming from unknown directions.

Somehow she knew her body was moving in a forward momentum although not under her control. She could not see her surroundings, smell the air, or taste the saliva in her own mouth. She couldn’t feel herself breathing yet somehow knew it was happening. Something had taken over and all her strength proved futile against this parasite.

72 hours later…

“We’re headed towards a Dyson cluster?” Skinner asked the man who he guessed had to be close to one hundred years old if he truly was who he thought. He was thin, pale, and walked hunched over.

“Yes, Mr. Skinner. The Syndicate and all our families will be there.”

“Right, but where do I fit into all this? Why did you take me aboard?”

“Your family is there as well.”

“My family? But how? When?”

“Mr. Skinner. We had to guarantee certain eventualities. We will need your help to police in our new government.”

“And if I don’t?”

“You will Mr. Skinner. It may take some time, but you will come to understand.”

A man dressed in sanitary scrubs, and a mask hung around his neck, excused himself into the room. “You told me to update you on Mulder? His vitals are faltering and he’s currently in the active stages of dying. The antivirals were not effective. If there were plans by Spender to save him, it would be from a treatment we do not currently possess.”

“How much longer does he have?” the man asked the medical professional.

“Could be hours. Up to three days possibly, no more,” the doctor replied.

The man looked at Skinner. “Guess it’s time you paid your respects.”

Skinner felt as if a bag of rocks laid in his gut. “I’ll get Agent Scully.”

“Dana?” Skinner asked as he entered her cabin, approaching her delicately. “We need to go see Mulder. It’s time.”

She looked at him with an empty gaze that he interpreted as despair. “You need me to hold Maggie?” he asked, and she blankly shook her head. He knew there was nothing he could do but be there for her yet he couldn’t stand to see her in pain.

They made their way to the quarantine unit, Skinner staying in the hallway to allow Scully her privacy with only Mulder and Maggie. She opened the door slowly and stood by the bed. She squeezed Mulder's hand, her finger stroking his bruised cheek. Maggie shrieked and wriggled, stretching out, reaching for her father.

Scully’s body instinctively brought her child to her chest to comfort her. Maggie didn’t accept it, pushing at her mother’s chest, punching and kicking, until she was free, sliding down to the bed, falling down on what was left of her father’s life. She crawled onto his chest, his heart beating shallowly against her ear. She closed her eyes as if creating the most pleasant of dreams and sucked her thumb, her other arm clinging to his neck. 

Mulder’s pulse grew weaker, his breath shallow. Maggie, in a moment of clarity, started to cry. She gripped her father’s white gown, at the center of his chest, her tiny feet kicking just above his waist. She pulled herself up, her angel hands haphazardly patting at his frosty blue lips, his bruised and battered face. “Dada,” she whined, releasing a tiny cry, her puffy cupid’s bow lips kissing his cold cheek. Mulder remained lifeless, his monitor displaying an even more erratic heartbeat. The graph not mapping days or hours, but minutes, until the finality of his life.

Maggie sat up with her knees on his chest and slapped both his cheeks, her small unlined forehead leaning into his deep creviced one. Mulder’s eyes lifted and stared into his baby girl’s turquoise shine. His lips parted and his throat released a death rattle.

“Dad-dee. Dad-dee.” The child sounded almost annoyed. Maggie squeezed his cheeks tighter, puckering his lips, her tiny nails scratching his cheek. Looking straight into his eyes without blinking, she commanded, “Daddy!” 

Mulder felt a chill as his body numbed. A painful process, the feeling of pins and needles at his extremities, as he lost oxygen while his circulation decreased. Regretting the things he’d never get to do with his family haunted him only briefly, his love for Scully, his children, lingered much longer. His final thought as he grew cold, was that the world would soon follow in his steps, the plague of death and war leaving few to grapple at what was left, if anything, of humanity. When the last spirit’s arm laid outstretched to receive him into the heavens, the bright light grew dim into a final pinprick of light. His hope still strong, his will to live refusing to give up, the white light shifted to a color no less beautiful than the Maldives, slowly growing wider, and more in focus. He bathed in the strength of the hue, the blues and greens of fairy-tale dreams. When the colors came to focus he knew those open and loving eyes, for they were more familiar than his own, and the door to his very soul. His precious Maggie touched him with those gentle hands and he was made anew, not like sculpting clay, but as if his body was reborn in its most perfect form. What life she was breathing into him, weaved in innocent unadulterated love, he held it in deep gratitude, sensing what she was giving him was sacred and transient, bypassing the eternal cycle of existence.

With his first ounce of restored strength he held his child. “Maggie, my girl. Wh-what have you done?”

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/164474329@N02/49478035813/in/dateposted/)

***

Scully had been pushed down deep within herself by the parasite. She was buried in a place with no door or windows and the way out didn’t quite suit her. Every minute hell. Scully heard voices, machines ticking and beeping, penetrating the stillness in the indefinite expansion of internal nothingness. Even with those facts, she got the feeling of suffocation, like her lungs had collapsed, like she could run forever, but get nowhere- no progress, no light, no shadow. No color. Prisoner of her own body. 

She felt a warmth in the void. A voice. Mulder, calling to Maggie. Maggie’s wonderful infectious laugh. Scully strained against the blackness to hear the divine sounds of her true loves.

24 hours later in an undisclosed location...

William tried to move, but the rattling chains held him to the metal chair. He took in a breath, the rancid residue that coated the floor penetrated his nostrils. It smelled like death. The sound of distant footsteps distracted him. The footfalls got louder until the man came into view. He knew this man. The one that identified himself as his creator. The one that shot him in the head believing he was his father.

“These chains might hold me in place, but they won’t stop me from killing you,” William spat.

CSM smirked as he lit his cigarette. “My boy, you’re not going to kill me. I have something you want.”

“What could I possibly want from you.”

“What does one look for in life? Simple pleasures. Answers, reason, purpose. That’s what I can offer you.”

“Answers? To what?”

“Who your parents are.”

“I know those answers. I have the proof.”

“You know of your human origins, possibly, but I’m talking about the part of you which is what you may call... extraterrestrial.”

“I’m listening,” William hissed.

“There is another father besides myself from which I harvested your alien DNA. It was not from the preserved fetus we used for all the other hybrid tests. No, he is very much alive, and on this ship.” CSM inhaled deeply. “Shall I introduce you?”

***

“It’s good to have you back, Mulder,” Scully purred, her hand blazing a trail down his bare chest. 

Strange was the word Mulder would use to describe Scully’s current behavior. With a shirt in his hands, he was contemplating putting it on, because where she was leading, he didn’t need it. 

“I’m happy to be missed, but how am I back?”

“Must we always search for an answer, Mulder?” Scully remarked. 

He looked at her curiously. What had gotten into her? With a push of her fingertips he fell backward onto the mattress. Her clothes slithered to the floor right before her smooth legs straddled his hips. Her nails ignited his nerve endings as they scraped his skin like the little magnetic shavings under the plastic toy he’d played with as a kid. When the pen moved, so did the shavings. Her body calling to his, he arched into her when she bent over and kissed him at the base of his neck, her tongue tracing a line across his shoulder. Not a single word left their lips, even when he felt himself growing against the inside of her thigh when her hands moved across his stomach. His erection could feel her heat through his jeans. God, when she touched him like that, and the way she kissed him, her lips were more than lips, they were the physical memory of every time, of who they were. Tonight, her touch and kiss had an edge that bit. 

She kept grinding into him, pinching his nipples, biting at his neck. Scully hadn’t acted this crazed since.. well, it had been some time. This was nothing he had expected from her. Mulder looked down and watched her as her hands freed his cock. The intensity of the lust in her eyes was nearly intimidating. She whispered hotly in his ear. “I hate these jeans. I hate everything between myself and you. I want to feel your cock Mulder, rigid and hot, sliding inside me.”

Mulder was not a man that had to be told twice, well, maybe he was, but his pants and underwear were at his ankles before Scully could leave his ear. He turned his head to meet her tongue, to let them tangle, while his fingers worked their way deep into her, grazing her clit with his thumb.

Scully moaned. “They said you were good Agent Mulder, but I underestimated.”

They were role playing. He definitely could get into that. “Who is They?” he asked her.

“The men that watch. They see it all.”

Voyeurism. What brought all this on? She didn’t give him much time to ponder, sitting up and bearing down, lodging his cock, now hard and firm, between her folds without allowing it entrance. He did a crunch to watch her move against him, and she rubbed the length of him with her clit for the show. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip so hard he tasted blood. “Please, Scully.”

The blue of her eyes were absent in the dark as she growled at him. “Not Scully. Call me, Andromeda. You get so hard, and you’re so very very long. Impressive, Agent Mulder. I’m not used to someone so big, where I’m from.”

“Where is that?” Mulder panted, the tip of his cock tingling as she teased it around her opening. 

“Not yet,” Scully commanded, twisting her hips, sliding his cock up her folds without the ability for him to enter, rubbing the length against her clit, sending waves of pleasure through him. She was so wet, he slid against her easily. Her legs parted farther as she leaned against him tortuously. He wanted to be inside her. She was using his cock to masturbate and it wasn’t like he minded, but his heart yearned for their connection.

“I want you, Scully,” he finally admitted. 

“Not until I’m ready, Agent Mulder.”

“Tell me then, please, what will it take?”

“Say my name,” she commanded, leaving a wet trail of arousal along his cock.

Mulder’s eyes closed, the back of his head pushing against the rough fitted sheet of the mattress, absorbing the pleasure. “Andromeda.”


	2. Parasitic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Previously, on the X-Files..
> 
> The Cigarette Smoking Man lives and is still a pain in the ass. In the words of Jafar from Aladdin, "How many times do I have to kill you boy!". A lot, especially when he is friends with a healing Alien Bounty Hunter. Then he whips out some alien dude in the neverending show of "who's your daddy?" because CSM doesn't know the truth of William the miracle and William being Mulder's biological son. If you're curious of the science, or need more explanation, chapters 130 and 131 of Rooted in Friendship has the detail. 
> 
> There was more syndicate and Dyson people than what Mulder killed in the shooting spree, and they have threatened Skinner with his family. Dyson spheres or clusters need tremendous power, so instead of destroying our sun, they decided to suck the power from another dimension and have it be someone else's problem. Because, when you rip a hole in a parallel universe, why not steal some shit?
> 
> Maggie, brought dear ol' dad back to life, and Mulder is almost back to better than normal. Then there's that black oil inside Scully that is quite fond of Mulder. How long will it take for Mulder to realize that Scully is infected? How far will it go?

CSM left William alone in his captivity only to reappear hours later. The sunlight flooding the room when CSM opened the door stung William’s eyes and blinded him, forcing him to squint as the smoking man appeared from the shadows. Somebody had been walking behind the smoking man, the shape of the body blocking the light as it entered the doorway. The outline of the man was skinny to the point of deformity, shorter than the Smoking Man by at least a foot. Its head, large and bulbous. As he stepped closer, William noticed the greyish leathery skin, reminiscent of Ghouli. He shook that image out of his head, but the Grey looked up at him with his large eyes, black as night. It had read William’s mind and captured the image. It intrigued him, this William knew, because in the process of opening William’s mind to read, he had opened himself for William to see. 

Mind reading was not in William’s repertoire, even if visions were, but this was extraordinary. While William knew of whom the twin he absorbed in-utero had been constructed from, of what, to see it in flesh, this was an experience which he found fascinating. 

If only his father, Mulder, could see this being for himself. He’d love it. 

_Your father,_ the alien spoke into William’s mind, _you believe it is someone other than this man next to me with the cigarette. Your father, is Fox Mulder._

_Yes. It’s funny, my father told me that the humans have been trying since 1973 to create a hybrid to assist in your takeover, to survive the apocalypse, and in the end, the God that created me wasn’t human or alien after all._

The alien rebuffed, _This wasn’t a war they could win William, whether by our hand or theirs, the results were inevitable. Inscribed in the heavens, and in the bowels of this planet. This Earth. And you, my son._

_I have had more parents than most, but you, are not one of them. Fox Mulder is my father and I have the DNA tests to prove it. Transferring of DNA code no matter how it’s done, is simply that, a transfer. I owe you nothing. And those great plans, they have made me a prisoner, alone in my alien affliction._

_You are not alone. As far as you may go, I cannot leave you, even in the face of death, you cannot deny me or your ancestors. All our knowledge, our evolution, we bequeath to you. Our strengths are yours, and you will come to see life through my eyes as your life is seen through mine._

William scoffed _. The son becomes the father, and the father the son. That’s from Superman. Classic. Although, you’re no Marlon Brando. So as you give me my life, I in turn give you yours? You believe I am the light to show them the way? To what? Being a slave? Drone?_

The alien became insistent. _This isn’t a fantasy, or a comic book, or something dreamt of wild imagination. Humans were born as placeholders, they were always meant to serve. They were here to assist in the preservation of resources and instead all that resulted from such primitives was wanton violence and destruction. We sent out our warnings, but they continued. They don’t need us to destroy them, they did that themselves. In a way, we will save them. It won’t be what you conceive to be ideal, but what you fail to comprehend is that they are incapable of leading themselves, or deserving of free will, of choice._

William drew his attention to CSM. _And how does he, the Smoking Man, play into this? He is one of them, isn’t he?_

The alien showed no expression as he continued. _He was an architect of the intended revolution against our plans as well as playing the part to ensure his place if his plans failed to succeed. Once our race decided against it, decided this planet was too far gone, that fighting the rebels was not worth the losses we were taking, it was set into motion that there were other planets that could be colonized with much less effort. The Smoking Man was the one that authored the insidious plot to establish a new order among you, with himself as absolute ruler._

_So, if you chose other planets to conquer, why are you here?_ William asked.

The alien continued _, Because the prophecy spoke of a ruler, a savior, one that needed to be taught by his father by his eighteenth birthday - give or take a few revolutions of the planet._ The alien tilted his head. _You really believed Fox Mulder was the one? The one to teach you The Truth? My son, even though you were raised as a human, you will never be one of them. You have many more talents, characteristics, only some of which you have yet to discover. I can be the one to teach you, but, the choice is yours._

Their conversation, which occurred in real time of only a fraction of what it would have taken by vibrating their vocal chords, was over, and CSM, while not able to read a mind, was quite good at body language. 

CSM brought his cigarette to his lips and inhaled deeply, appreciating every last bit of smoke. “Are you ready to answer the existential question, who am I?”

“I’m ready,” William answered. Whatever this thing wanted to teach him, he was ready to learn.

***Meanwhile, on the ARV headed to the Dyson Cluster***

All this teasing had Mulder aching. Hard to almost bursting, a throbbing hunger filled his skin. He tried to touch her, but she grabbed both his wrists, holding them against the mattress with all her weight, rocking her hips back and forth. She ground harder, increasing the pressure against his cock, rubbing faster until he felt her swell and tighten, watched on as she closed her eyes and allowed her orgasm to wash over her. It was slightly painful for him, her motions too rough, but if she was getting pleasure from it, that was all that mattered to him. Somehow, he felt a little empty, slightly dejected. 

“Don’t look so heartbroken, Agent Mulder,” she said. “We’ve only just begun.”

Scully, the real Scully, fought valiantly inside herself, but even so, when Mulder’s love came rushing in, she couldn’t not embrace it, allowing it to seduce her and forget for the moment there was someone sharing in her bliss, controlling her very body.

Scully’s body paused, as if the entity had been shaken by their bond. Mulder tenderly reached for her hand and their fingers entwined. In that instant, he felt their connection. Somewhere, in his mind, like a fading dream, he thought he heard Scully call to him, crying out - _Mulder, I need your help, it’s got control of me_ \- and then disengage. 

“You ready for me Mulder?” the entity asked, using Scully’s tongue to slowly trace his bicep. Her eyes, dark as night, transfixed on his as she sunk her teeth into the sensitive skin. 

Mulder, panic-stricken, did the first thing that popped into his head, and yelled in pain, clutching his thigh. “My leg! My leg! Charlie horse!” Before she could reply, he rolled out from under her and darted into the bathroom.

Mulder ran the water, opening and closing the medicine cabinets, calling out, “Be out in a minute!,” but it didn’t take long before Scully was banging on the door.

“You alright in there?” Scully replied.

Mulder composed himself. When had the black oil entered her? It must have been somewhere on the ship. He decided the wisest thing to do was play along. “Yeah, I’m fine. I think maybe I’m not fully recovered from the virus yet. I may need more time to recuperate.” 

“Okay,” she said through the door sounding disappointed, “There will be time later.” Then before she left the doorway she called out, “We must do what is best for your health.” 

Even with her last expression of affection, Mulder felt a distance. Scully was buried inside, but so was the alien parasite. His heart contracted, needing to help her, yearning for the connection she failed to return. 

Several hours later, reinvigorated from a forced nap, Mulder climbed from the cot he was assigned and stretched. A tinge in his back letting him know it wanted the bed in their home while his heart reminded him he needed to be sleeping with Scully. With the exception of a few fading bruises, he felt good, young, like he had stepped into a time machine. He used the bathroom and got dressed, walking down the hallway past aluminum walls and steel piping. When he got to the common area he secured his rations and located Scully, sitting across the table from her. He reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze, taking note of her lack of response. Perhaps Maggie’s sudden reluctance to go to her had merit after all. 

“We need to find William,” Scully said dryly.

“I know,” Mulder replied. “The war is still raging on Earth. And I need to find my father. He needs to be stopped. There has to be an end.”

“Your father,” Scully said slowly.

“Yes. The Smoking Man. The madman that has decided to single-handedly destroy all humans.”

“How did he survive?” 

“Does it even matter?” Mulder asked, his brow slanting downward.

Before Scully could answer, an elderly gentlemen interrupted them, he looked like something right out of an old time gangster movie. Gingerly, he sat down next to Mulder with a hefty groan. 

“You’ve made quite a miraculous recovery Mr. Mulder,” the man rumbled. “Before you murdered him, Mr. Y told me you were special. I never could have imagined the magnitude. And now I’m beginning to understand what Spender saw in you.”

Mulder pushed away his breakfast. “Your stench is nauseating. Did you come over just to compliment me or did you want to ask me out on a date?”

“Might we speak in a more confidential location?” the older man asked as he carefully rose from his seat. 

“I’ll be back shortly,” Mulder whispered to Scully and followed the man to the other end of the ship, past the dormitories, the gym, the solarium, through the innards of pipes and wires to the control area, until they were back to formal offices. 

“Have a seat, Agent Mulder,” said the man. 

“Don’t think that I don’t know how you’re powering this project," Mulder jumped in. "I know all about how you’re pumping power from an alternate dimension. There will be consequences. If you destroy them, what makes you think it won’t destroy our reality?”

“We have carefully laid plans, Agent Mulder.”

“By sucking the energy from their sun, you will destroy them and that’s okay, as long as you survive.”

“There’s always someone that has to die. Isn’t that what survival of the fittest is all about?”

“What do you want with me? My son?”

“You failed! Your father lives. But, you do have some value to us. If for nothing else, we must find your son. Even under the protection of the Dyson clusters, the aliens will eventually come for us to be under their control. We’ll need his protection. For now, Agent Mulder, all we need from you is your cooperation.”

Mulder left the offices and returned to the passenger areas of the ship. They couldn’t wait for the ship to make its final pickup before heading to the cluster. This had to be stopped now. As if the ship read his thoughts, it rocked hard. Mulder almost lost his balance, his hand steady against the wall. He raced for a viewing area, and from the dark came a small fleet of triangular ships. Mulder recognized the formations as U.S. Military. Was the government trying to take command of the ship? For once, was someone attempting to do the right thing? 

More shots fired and the ship rocked again, but they weren't direct hits. Mulder knew what they were doing. They were trying to get the shield down so they could commandeer the ship. The syndicate couldn’t return fire with the shield activated.

Whatever the case, Mulder wanted a front row seat. 

“Mulder!,” Skinner shouted as he ran into the room. “Military personnel are boarding the ship. The war, it’s here.” 

Mulder and Skinner raced towards the gunfire, but as they reached the last corridor, Skinner made a sharp left. Mulder shouted, “This is our chance.”

“I can’t leave my family.” Skinner stopped moving and lowered his voice, emotion pouring through the cracks. He gathered himself and spoke frankly. “Someone will have to organize everyone and prepare for their safe trip back to earth. I’ll contact X’s daughter in the CIA and get word to FBI headquarters, get the message to them somehow. I’ll organize the resources to deal with the tear between dimensions.”

“Skinner, it’s a suicide mission,” Mulder replied.

“Someone has to stay behind and it’s going to be me. Hey, you’re not the only one that can perform miracles,” Skinner said with a forced smile. 

Mulder nodded in acceptance knowing he would not be able to change Skinner's mind, and took off to find Scully and his child.

* 

Without a firearm, Mulder could only duck and use his body to shield his wife and daughter from the onslaught of bullets when he did locate them. Eventually, they were discovered by the soldiers, who cuffed Mulder, but allowed Scully to continue to carry Maggie, leading them onto a smaller ship, locking them in a small room.

They waited in seemingly endless silence, until finally the door swung open and Charlie Scully stepped in. “Shit, you’re getting old. I figured you’d put up more of a fight,” Charlie said with a smile.

Mulder chewed on the inside of his cheek as he gave Charlie a look. He came in for a hug, giving his brother-in-law a hard pat on the back. “How’d you find us?”

“Gibson confirmed it was you, but mostly by using human made instruments and a surveillance technique patented a long time ago by your friends, The Lone Gunman. We were able to pick up the ship's pulses on radar, in addition to that wide fucking beam they threw over the bridge to teleport your asses up.”

“Well, either way, I’m glad you did,” Mulder said.

Charlie waved at Maggie who lifted the fingers that she was not sucking on to wiggle his way, not bothering to lift her head from her mother’s shoulder.

“Sis?” Charlie said, looking curiously at Scully that only returned a blank stare. “Have you heard from William?”

“No, we got separated,” Mulder answered.

“Is there a way to locate him?” 

“Yes,” Scully said, finally speaking. “I can find him. I can speak to him.”

“You can?” Mulder asked, “When did that start?”

“I-uh, recently,” Scully said. 

“How does it work? Can I give you coordinates and you send them through telepathy, or..” Charlie sounded excited, but Mulder had several more questions for Scully.

“If I can put a picture in my head, something similar to a landmark, it will help,” Scully explained.

***

“I know where they are,” William said to CSM, watching him take a drag. “I will bring them to us.”

“And your mother?”

“She will join us. She will come to understand as I have.”

***

The ship landed on a carrier parked inside the Andaman Sea, off the shores of Myanmar, close to Thailand. Mulder leaned in to mumble into Scully’s ear. “I’m not sure about this Scully. Why is William out here? How did he get here?” 

Scully twisted her face into a smile. “This is the place.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually wrote it originally with Mulder having sex with a possessed Scully, but I couldn't go through with it. Maybe I'll save it for a different fic, change it up.


	3. Space Invaders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last Chapter Charlie arrived with the Air Force to stop those headed towards the Dyson clusters. With Gibson on board he found Mulder, Scully, and Maggie and took off to find William. Using Scully's new abilities with the aid of the black oil inside her, they arrive at the air craft carrier William is currently occupying.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/164474329@N02/49531107996/in/dateposted/)

William ran towards the ship as they disembarked, greeting his uncle and father, embracing his mother. He recoiled immediately. “You’re, you’re not my mother.”

“William?” Mulder said, “Maybe we should go inside first.” He knew William would see the black oil inside his mother just as he did, but showing his cards in front of everyone might not have been the best laid plan.

“No,” he shouted to his father, and Mulder felt his own stubbornness slap him in the face. "Who are you?” William insisted, staring down his mother.

“My name is Andromeda. I know you have a Bounty Hunter among you. Take me to him.”

“William, what is this about?” Charlie asked. 

“I’m not sure,” he answered, holding his ground.

Mulder watched the exchange, grateful that Gibson volunteered to stay inside with Maggie.

Scully, showing no trepidation, forged ahead of them off the platform and entered the carrier. She walked down a long narrow metal stairway, her jaw rigid, her breath steady. She walked until she was face to chest with the tall man with stark features and dead set eyes. 

“You could have picked a taller host,” said the Bounty Hunter.

“This host contained all the answers I needed,” Scully replied. “I know all the colonists have left for other more sustainable planets. So, who are you serving?”

“There are some of us that stayed, to follow a new design, led by a human, the one they call Spender. In return, he gave us freedom from you, viral parasites.”

“You’ve teamed up with a human because they developed a vaccine,” Scully corrected. “One that you think will take your own planet from our control. You won’t stop us when we’re hatching inside every host on this planet, or yours.”

“Then what? This planet is headed for extinction. Our plan is to thin the herd enough to make this planet viable for all of us left. If you rise up, and sustain your population, extinction will be inevitable.”

“You forget. We have our ships,” Scully reminded him.

“The ships?” the Bounty Hunter asked in confusion.

“The ones that were sent to Earth, that created the first five extinctions, that pushed evolution forward, theology, science, the creation of the humans, all to prepare for colonization. Humans were not meant to be equals, but hosts and slaves to enable us to thrive. They are so far behind on the evolutionary path, their DNA incomplete, designed not for sustainability, but to further and serve our species. They were meant for extinction.”

Scully stepped toward the carrier's railing and inhaled a deep breath of salty ocean air. “My host has bared witness to two of our ships. I know this is the location of one of them because that is why you are here. You think that the boy, William, can control the ship, that the ship will obey and won’t protect itself with plagues and boiling of the sea. You want to use it to repair the Earth for your pitiful human and yourself to lead in taking over the Earth.” Scully laughed. “Only I’m here now and the ship will obey me. The ship buried itself here for a reason. If my timing is correct, the volcano will blow shortly.” Scully watched the Smoking Man approach, but before the cigarette left his wrinkled lips, she spoke, “but while we’re waiting, why not make myself in charge of it all?”

Scully’s body stepped closer to The Smoking Man, her body spasmed and collapsed onto the deck. An oily ebony worm slithered it’s way down Scully’s cheek and undulated toward its destination; the white’s of the Smoking Man’s eyes morphed from yellow to black as his body stiffened in pain.

Mulder ran towards Scully praying to the God she believed in that she was unharmed. The Smoking Man raised his arms and Mulder fell to his knees. A horrific sound speared through his frontal lobe, paralyzing him. The ground shook and trembled underneath him, a roar filled the air with sound as plumes of ash took flight and painted the sky in a graphite fountain, spewing from the nearby volcano - black oil.

Mulder lifted his head with his hands at his ears, just enough to see his son wink at him. He looked over at Scully who was back on her feet. Then, before Mulder’s very eyes, William made the Bounty Hunter seemingly multiply. The true ABH glanced William’s way and then spoke to Andromeda, now inside the body of The Smoking Man. “You’re not the only one who can multiply. If it’s a war you are looking for, you will get it, but you will lose.”

Feeling William blocking Andromeda’s signal, Mulder forced himself up to his feet and yelled above the roar, “Charlie, to the ship.. Scully, we have to go, NOW!”

Hunched over, Mulder and Charlie ran, Scully close behind, leaving the aliens to battle it out. Once the door sealed shut and Charlie fired them off, Scully faced Mulder. “What about William?”

Mulder placed a hand on her shoulder. “I have my beliefs that William is stronger than all of them. If he is the true leader, then the black oil will obey him. Right now, we need to get back, the virus is still spreading across the planet and all of humanity will need your help.”

Speeding back to Virginia, Charlie contacted Jeffrey Spender who agreed to use his resources to help in the replication of the properties of Scully’s immunity, requesting a couple days to set up production. They agreed to meet on Saturday as Charlie landed the ARV in Mulder and Scully’s yard. 

Charlie said his goodbyes, paused before they left. “Look guys, we need a plan going forward, but for right now, Scully’s initial cocktail is at least keeping people from dying. Once we meet with Jeffrey, we can proceed with a more viable cure. Until then, let’s try to get some rest. Valentine’s Day is tomorrow and unless Jeffrey interrupts, I’m spending it with my wife. Considering it will be your first as husband and wife.. try your best to enjoy it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter will be posted later today - Mulder and Scully celebrating Valentine's Day.


	4. V-Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scully and Mulder celebrate their first Valentine's Day together as wife and husband.

Mulder held the door open and Scully stepped into the banquet hall, the candlelight casting golden hues on her auburn hair, the earrings he gave her last year sparkling like a prism of color. He always thought she was stunning in a classical elegant kind of way. Tonight, she was in a red gown with a black frock that draped off her shoulders, hugging her curves, and ending just above her knees. It forced her hips to take on a sashay, while her pumps elongated her exquisite legs. He found it difficult to focus his eyes on anything else. Especially, considering the festive place they had just stepped into. 

“Why do I have the strange feeling I’ve entered a Hallmark movie?” Mulder whispered in Scully’s ear as the Maitre D showed them to their table.

“Behave Mulder, this is for charity. The proceeds go to the children’s hospital so they have the money to distribute our vaccine. Remember, this was your idea.” 

“I guess I didn’t realize that meant cupid vomiting heart balloons and streamers everywhere,” he muttered.

The room was in perfect Valentine’s day decor with hearts hanging from the ceiling sporadically throughout the room, roses at each centerpiece and various reds and pinks everywhere. People were mingling, adorned in gorgeous gowns of various reds and pinks, the gentlemen, each with a red boutonniere tucked in their coats. 

To Scully’s dismay, Mulder wasn’t finished. “All we need is a unicorn to come in and shit a rainbow.”

Scully looked up at him. “No baskets of puppies?”

Mulder raked a hand over his face. “Lord, are those doves?”

“Where?” Scully asked, but when Muder broke a smile she laughed. “You got me.”

Mulder pulled out the chair for her, the hairs on her arm standing on end as they brushed against his jacket sleeve. Scully slipped into the chair and glanced up at him, “You think Maggie and the dog will be okay with Molly until we return?”

Mulder sat across from her, reaching out over the cream linen tablecloth to cover her hand with his. “They’ll be fine, Scully.” 

“Molly is worried about William and so am I.”

“I understand, I am too, but William can take care of himself and we don’t have the power to protect him. Scully, he’s part you and me, you know that means he’s going to be fine.” 

Flashing a grin, her nerves dissipated as his humor colored her cheeks. She turned her attention to the wine list. When the waiter came, she rattled off the bottle she chose for them in her impeccable Italian.

They decided their entrees as the waiter decanted the wine and after they ordered, Scully raised her glass. “To saving the world.”

Mulder clinked his glass against hers. “To saving the world,” he repeated before sipping.

Placing down the glass, her eyes gleamed at him. “Those flowers you, Molly, and Maggie picked out for me were beautiful Mulder. Peonies, hydrangeas, roses, Lily of the Valley...”

“Instead of flowers, I figured this year, plants would be better. I’m tired of watching things die, I rather watch them grow.” Leaning back in his chair, he sipped his wine, glancing at Scully over the rim. “I know I haven’t said it yet, but you look beautiful tonight.” 

Scully blushed, grinning cheekily, “Thank you, Mulder. I know those things aren’t always easy for you to say.”

“I think the wine makes it easier,” he said, moving closer, lowering his voice. “That and I can’t handle you in that dress.”

Smirking, Scully polished off her wine. “Mulder, you couldn’t handle me if I was in a potato sac.”

Mulder pursed his lips and chewed on the inside of his cheek. “True, but only because of the thought of getting to be the one to peel it off of you before the night was over.”

Scully met his gaze over the table, the air between them intensified with a charge he could taste. Her blue eyes sparked with desire. He felt his blood heat under his skin. 

She filled her glass again and her fingers wrapped around the stem. Her breath increased with each passing second as she stared back.

Mulder inched closer, the collar of his dress shirt suddenly chafing his neck, his limbs restricted in his own clothes, “Scully,” he growled, his focus so intent on her that he didn’t notice the server approaching. 

“Your entrees,” he announced, both of them springing back from their chairs.

They shared a bit of humor between them as the waiter placed their meals in front of them. There was his Scully, the one that showed him her vulnerability as equally as her strengths, her face glowing, her eyes wild, and he fell in love with her all over again. He appreciated every good time they ever mutually shared, and even more now that those times had evolved to fond memories.

“You give my life stability, Scully,” he said as he brought the fork to his mouth. “A family, a certainty for the future.”

“You see certainty in our future? Even with the world caving in on us?” Scully asked between chews.

“We will find a way,” Mulder said confidently.

“Nothing ever taints you, does it Mulder?”

“You’ll just look for any reason at all to say taint,” Mulder smirked. 

Scully’s mouth fell open, a laugh tumbling from her lips. It was short lived as her expression grew serious. “Mulder, the intravenous immunoglobulin therapy won't work on everyone. Eventually, the virus will mutate and continue to attack immune systems. Maybe there is someone more qualified than I am Mulder, that can help.”

Mulder leaned in closer. “No one, could hold a candle to my wife. No one ever has or ever will.”

“Except you,” Scully reminded him.

Reaching out, his fingers caught in her elbow and settled in the crease of her arm. “Only on our first case.” 

Scully drew her eyes from his for a moment, scooping up another bite of cherry cobbler and ice cream. He loved watching her enjoy food. “This is amazing,” she said, offering him a bite from her spoon. He let her feed it to him and hummed in agreement. The move was so intimate, so nurturing, he felt almost naked in front of so many patrons. 

Placing the spoon down, she tipped her face towards his, arching her neck, and he closed the space between them. Mulder’s mouth brushed against hers slowly, as if he was recalling a memory. Closing her eyes, her hands tentatively moved to cup his cheeks, but before it was able to become a kiss he said, “Dance with me.” 

Slipping her hand around his elbow, he led her to the dance floor. With her in his arms they swayed to the soft music the band was playing. He grinned, twirling her around. When she returned to his arms he dropped his head and brushed a rough kiss across her cheek. She beamed up at him, her face open and radiant the way he remembered from every dance they ever had. The night had grown into a celebration of the love and the future he had yearned for since he was a young boy. Something permanent. Something real and stable. Something honest. The thought swelled his heart, and other parts of his body.

“Let’s go home, Scully,” Mulder said, piercing her with his eyes. It only took one nod of her head and they were off.

Back at the house, Mulder left Scully in the living room only to return with a large wrapped rectangular object about three feet wide. “This, is for you,” he said, pushing away his papers and laying it on his desk. 

Her blue eyes sparked with curiosity. “Mulder, when did you have time? I didn’t get you anything, I mean, there was no time..”

Mulder laughed. “Scully, it’s fine.” He tilted his head and waggled his brow. “They’ll be plenty of time… later.” He drew their attention back to his gift. “I meant to give this to you for Christmas, but I ordered it late and thought I’d give you it for Valentine’s Day instead.” He shrugged. “Just got lucky I guess.”

Hesitantly, Scully tore at the shiny red paper, as it revealed three midnight blue circular pictures. As she read the plaques beneath them, they explained they were the night’s sky for that date and location. Heat twisted up Scully’s spine and tears prickled her eyelids, but she quickly blinked them away. “Mulder, I-I don’t know what to say…”

“You hate it,” Mulder said, feeling dejected. He should have stuck with jewelry.

“No, no Mulder, this is amazing. It-it’s perfect.” She pointed at the first set of stars. This one... is the first day we met?”

Mulder smiled and nodded, relieved, euphoric, and excited. “Yes, since all the stars aligned. The next one is our wedding night.”

“And the last,” Scully said as he gauged her reaction, “is the day Maggie was born.” She raised a brow. “What about William?”

Mulder held out his index finger and fumbled through his desk drawers. “I didn’t get William’s done, because I already had it.” He held up one more plaque. “The Lone Gunman gave it to me as a present when William was born,” Mulder explained. “We can hang them all up together.” 

“Mulder,” Scully said and just the tone made Mulder’s cock thicken, “I want to go upstairs now.”

Climbing up the stairs, Scully was acutely aware of the way the warmth of Mulder’s fingertips traveled through her dress. Her body in tune as ever to every move Mulder made, the way his palm found her thigh when she was driving the car, how he comfortingly pressed his fingertips into the small of her back when they walked, and the scrape of his stubble against her cheek before he asked her to dance.

By the time they reached the fish tank at the top of the stairs she was biting into her bottom lip imagining his sexy body with no clothes on, muscles rippling as he held his weight above her as he moved. But if she was being honest with herself, her favorite position, her favorite part of Mulder’s muscles and strength was in standing position, when he wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on her head. It made her feel safe and protected, reminded her they were never alone, that he was there to hold her joy, her sorrow, her happiness, her pain. All as her smaller body was cocooned by his much larger one. She looked at him and his warm hand glided up her back so his fingers could rest at the base of her neck. 

Reading her eyes, softly, he kissed her, stoking the fire, a quick flash of ignition but with a slow burn, the embers heating inside her core, stealing her breath. She opened her eyes and the look in his made her ache. She was ready for him to do the things to her that made her sore the next day.

Closing the door to the bedroom, Mulder turned, his eyes drinking her in, the atmosphere charged with emotions considering the weight of what was to come. 

Scully crossed her arms in front of her so she could pull her dress up over her head, hanging it neatly in the closet. She stood before Mulder in her pumps, clad in only a black bra and matching panties. His gaze traveled along her body like a caress, warming her from the inside out.

Her sight-line dropped to his slacks and behind his zipper, barely containing the thick cock that had stretched her to its form from the very first time. Mulder self consciously adjusted it. She loved getting him excited, making that long alluring cock of his hard.

He stripped slowly for her. Mulder was 6 foot 2 inches of lengthy tanned, muscled lusciousness. Bigger and harder than last month or the year before, if that was even possible. His dark hair curling slightly at his hairline, he posed, keeping his hands at his hips so she could get an unobstructed view of his body in all its glory, the sarcastic endearment stabbing at her heart. She took in all of him - His dusting of stubble across his cheeks and sharp jawline, full lips even when he was not smiling, kissable and soft, large hands to span her waist or lift her into his arms with ease. His unyielding gaze seared her, rooting her in place. He captured her mouth with his, giving it everything he had, reminding her how he felt. 

They made their way slowly to the bed, Mulder appreciative of Scully allowing him to have the pleasure of removing her remaining clothing. 

Lying back against the pile of pillows Scully positioned herself. Mulder’s eyes slid over her again, a palpable caress, and though some small part of her was self-conscious about her body not being the younger version of herself he used to stare at hungrily, that inner wanton he brought out preened proudly as he groaned in appreciation. It helped that his hand was slowly stroking his cock as he did, like he could get-off just seeing her laid out like a feast for his eyes. Her eyes were drawn to that up and down movement, but she traced his entire sensual body with her eyes too, appreciating the broadness of his shoulders, the V lines of his waist, the bumps of his abs, and every dip and bulge of muscle. 

Mulder knelt down between her spread legs, looking up at her, making sure it was what she wanted. Her mouth was open, small pants of need passing her lips as she pressed her hips forward. So slowly, he kissed across her knee and up her inner thigh, pausing as he reached her swollen center. With an angel’s breath he licked along her lips, right then left, before flattening his tongue and tasting the honey coating her slit. Scully moaned and grew even wetter, as he left her throbbing clit to lick the flavor off her thighs. When he drew close again to her center, she bucked, her hands plunging into his hair, pulling to the point of pain, but he didn’t care. All he cared about was the taste. Mulder drug his tongue back across her, dipping it inside. How did he ever live a life before that taste? He teased her with his tongue, using the rhythm he knew to make her stiffen underneath him. More of that perfect flavor flooded his mouth, and she shook, hips bucking, toes curling. He knew what she wanted and exactly how to give it to her, bringing her to that edge quickly, but then backing off, allowing her orgasm to slip just out of reach. She groaned in frustration, but it only made him do it again, enjoying her sweet sweet taste. 

He felt her legs trembling, her thighs trying to close around his ears. He wrapped his arms under her thighs, locking his fingers together over her belly like he was prone at her altar. “Patience Scully,” he warned, “because as soon as you start to come, I’m going to be inside you, feeling you pulsing around me, and then we’ll really make love.”

“You do that too well, Mulder. You make me feel too good,” she admitted as she writhed. The raw honesty made his head swell with pride and his tongue get back to work, bringing her teetering once more, her nails scratching at his arms, using him for leverage to put more of him in her mouth, begging for release.

He loved when she got needy, when her demanding side broke free to let him know so clearly what she wanted. He sucked her clit into his mouth, battering it with his tongue in rhythm with the suction. She drenched him as she cried out his name, and while a part of him celebrated her cries, he didn’t lose focus, gliding on top of her, gripping his cock and sliding it into its home. 

Just like he said, she spasmed around him, squeezing him with her velvet walls, coating him with her honey. It felt better than he was prepared for and he held her in his arms, groaning in a whisper into her eyes. “Scully, relax, you keep that up, you're going to make me come.” She listened, her walls relaxing for a moment, a fresh gush of her juices letting him know that she was okay, her nails now digging into his back, while she squeezed his hips with her knees pulling him against her even when he was completely inside her. “I’m having trouble holding back tonight, Mulder. I almost lost you again, and now I feel like I can’t get enough of you.”

Mulder passed her a soft smile between ragged breaths. “I’m sure I could fix that.”

So many years of being with Mulder, and the way he filled her still took her breath away. Scully shifted, wrapping her legs around him to get more of him inside her, as much as possible. His mouth landed on hers, plunging his tongue deep, with sure strokes. Scully moaned. Mulder’s thrusts were slow, steady strokes, burying his entire length inside her each time, then pulling back to the tip. She was so full, each time he moved it felt like fireworks. Mulder hit that deep spot that only he could find. He changed the angle of his next thrust, just a slight adjustment, and she gasped, suddenly, he tapped the gates of heaven. Mulder was perfection - focus and speed. “Oh God,” Scully cried. 

“There it is,” he hummed into her forehead. He didn’t pull out far, instead moving faster, driving into her, making the world burst into vibrant colors. Her words disappeared, blurred by pleasure, and she could only moan. She begged him for more, and he gave it to her. Harder and faster, his groans aligning with hers. Scully couldn’t keep her lips away from him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and they locked their mouths. She wanted to share his breath. That was what they did. They shared. Everything. The truth of it resonated through her like a bell. This man who held her, defended her, created their family, and had claimed her so thoroughly that he stole her breath with a glance— her husband- She was deeply, passionately, in love with. 

His voice was breathy in her ear, telling her how beautiful she was, how good she felt, telling her he loved her, telling her yes. He scooped his hand under her ass and tilted her up to him so he could push just a little deeper, and the pleasure froze her in place. “Oh God, oh God. Muuuuuulder,” she screamed and held him tight, desperately trying to hold on so she could come with him. 

Mulder thrusted, deeply, one more time, and Scully fell into bliss. He didn’t stop, through her orgasm, building another. She contracted around his cock, and reveled in that delicious friction. There was nothing between them, just like he promised years ago. Scully was shaking, climaxing, pleasure pouring over her. Resting in a haze of perfect pleasure, Mulder continued his rhythm, his mouth crashing onto hers with bruising force, and it felt like he had crawled deeper inside her. She felt it as he came, filling her with his perfect, exquisite heat. Holding himself deep, he shouted out his pleasure, his body going taut before nearly collapsing on top of her. They were breathing in perfect synchronicity, just holding on to each other. Scully didn’t move, relishing that perfect feeling of being connected and filled by him. 

His arms scooped under her shoulders, fingers tangled in her hair. They held each other and their gaze. Mulder’s brow furrowed. “It’s still getting better.”

“I know,” Scully said. 

Mulder buried his face in her neck, leisurely working his lips from ear to shoulder. Giving her slow kisses and drags of his tongue that tingled and made her nipples grow hard and her muscles squeeze around his semi-hard cock. 

“I will never get tired of tasting you,” he murmured. “Every part of you.” 

The drag of his mouth and plush lips trailed a path to her shoulder, then back again, all the way to the underside of her jaw. “Remember when we could spend days doing this? Slowly covering every part of our bodies with the other’s mouth until we tasted everything.” 

Scully closed her eyes as he gave her one long kiss across her collarbone. “Those were good times, but so is our lack of alone time now.”

“I love both of those,” he said, his eyes full of desire as he teased her ear. 

Scully contracted instinctively, and Mulder groaned against her temple. “I wonder what else we have time for?” he asked and pressed his lips to the hot skin of her cheek.

Scully reached over to the nightstand and tapped her phone. It lit up, displaying the digital clock. “It’s almost time to get Maggie.”

He nodded, slowly, but reluctantly, pulling out of her, releasing her from his embrace. Scully sat up so she could be next to him, both of them sitting at the edge of the bed. He passed her, her panties and bra, reaching in for a kiss. “I’ll leave you the bathroom here and use the one downstairs. I’ll be ready in ten minutes.” He smiled and covered her hand with his as it sat on her thigh, giving it a squeeze. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Scully.”

Scully twisted her hand to thread with his, returning his smile. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Mulder.”


	5. Kevin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What's happening? Well, William is still hanging out with the Black oil, a bounty hunter, and a grey alien.  
> Mulder and Scully are back home with Maggie, and Scully's trying to save everyone from the virus spreading weakening everyone's immunity.  
> From the last chapter of Rooted in Friendship, Molly is William's girlfriend and is also pregnant, but while Mulder and Scully know, William does not. 
> 
> Mulder and Scully left to their own devices just can't keep their hands off each other.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/164474329@N02/49563461627/in/dateposted/)

“Dada!” Maggie chanted happily as she wiggled her little butt on Mulder’s lap, drawing with her crayon on the big red heart she made with Molly for her father.

“It’s beautiful, M,” Mulder replied, planting a kiss on her rosy freckled cheek. “You’re my valentine.” He sent another kiss to her head, her soft cherry locks tickling his nose as she held a stubby index to her puffy cupid’s arrow lips; her trimmed nail squishing her button nose. “Shhh” she murmured in acknowledgement.

Molly approached them with a warm smile and lifted Maggie into her arms. “Shhh!” Maggie repeated to Molly. 

“Okay, Maggie, Shhh,” Molly replied. She noticed the powdered sugar stuck to her chin and the jelly on her shirt. “Someone has been sharing a jelly donut with Daddy.” Molly looked over at Mulder. “I don’t know that Mommy would approve.”

“It was a little father/daughter treat,” Mulder said, winking at Maggie. Maggie nodded her head and giggled. 

“I wish my dad had been a quarter of the one you are. I wish we had traditions,” Molly said, looking a little saddened. “Okay, Maggie, let’s go upstairs and give you a bath.”

“See you soon M. Say hello to Dr. Rubber Ducky!” Mulder called out. 

Scully passed Maggie and Molly on her way down the stairs to sit across from Mulder at the kitchen table. 

With an exchange of amorous glares, Scully rested her feet nonchalantly on Mulder’s lap. A peculiar move for Scully, but he took the left one and gently rubbed from her ankle to the top of her foot. “Last night..” he started, the emotions still fresh in his heart.

“It was really something,” Scully finished, indenting her bottom lip with her incisor. She pressed her heel deliberately into his thigh, causing it to slide into the seam of his pants. Mulder hummed as she wiggled her toes, but quickly gathered himself, slanting his brow. “You feeling okay, I mean since your encounter with the black oil? Maybe we need to make sure there were no residual effects? Nothing or no one left behind?”

“Mulder, I’m fine,” Scully said, her large toe tracing the outline in his sweatpants. She felt him press against it as he grew taut. “But, to be on the safe side, I will run some tests,” she conceded.

That failed to convince him, her libido had noticeably heightened since the black oil had intervened. Still her foot was making a pretty good case that he shouldn’t be so hung up on it. She stroked him again and he throbbed into her arch, his hand coming to hold it still as it pressed solidly against his formidable erection. “Ahh, Scully, as tempting as this is.. We’ve got company upstairs and company coming..” He closed his eyes and absorbed the pulse of pleasure before he jolted up from the chair.

Scully rose up with him, running her fingers down his sternum. “I better get Maggie’s clothes in the laundry before we leave. If you have anything that needs to be washed, give it to me now.” Grabbing the basket of clothes from the couch and throwing in a couple of his own, Mulder followed her into the laundry room. 

“What did it feel like when it was inside you?” Mulder asked, and she felt his warmth shift closer to her in the small cramped room. Scully smiled and finished loading the washer before answering. “Invasive, yet I didn’t feel that it was trying to harm me. I could sense its thoughts and it could sense mine.” Scully sighed and then continued, “Mulder, when that thing was inside me, I had no control over my physical body..”

“Scully, I know.”

“..but I was still in there, still feeling.. Everything. I tried to stop it. I guess I wasn’t strong enough.”

“Scully, none of that was your fault,” he monotoned.

“It did make me realize, Mulder,” she said, turning, threading her fingers through his hair, “made me remember, what it felt like between us in the beginning.”

“Yeah, was it that much different?”

“No, just newer. Mulder, what we have now.. It’s so much better, textured and nuanced, exciting..”

“You’ve always been exciting, Scully.” Before she could say a word, she felt his fingertips tracing up her arm, finding her jaw and cup it in his hand, guiding himself almost blindly with closed eyes, before pressing his lips to hers. It was sweet, exploring without pressuring her for more. Forward, but respectful. Exciting. She moved her lips to adjust slightly, tasting him, and it lit a spark in Mulder, kissing her deeper, hotter, eagerly. The door to the washer slammed shut when he pressed her against it, with her free hand she started it up, then wrapped her arms around his neck, their tongues starting to tangle as he lifted her onto the machine. Dimly in Scully’s mind she heard a clunk as the detergent fell over, but she really didn’t care. Feeling his cock between her legs gave her irresistible pleasure. Mulder rubbed harder and a jolt hit her, making her hips roll against him, grinding herself into the seam of his sweats. “It feels so much better when it's just us,” Mulder rasped against her lips. “Really good.” 

He gently tightened the grip in her hair, the other hand reaching for the hem of her shirt, slipping it over her head before cupping her bra in his hands. She could feel the smooth, flat pads of his fingers as they palmed and traced over the swells at the tops of her breasts, humming in appreciation. He pulled from her lips and rested his forehead on hers. “You’re soft as silk, Scully.” 

“Mulder, we can’t.. They’ll be here any minute,” Scully said, but even as she spoke, she was tugging on the back of his shirt, finding his skin and tracing his muscles. Mulder growled, running his palm across her bra-covered nipple in a velvety soft caress that was her total undoing. She desperately wanted him, rough and fast, and brutal, but Mulder was preoccupied, being gentle with her, worshipful as he dipped his mouth to suck her through the plain cotton of her bra. And that.. felt even better. Scully moaned at the onslaught, her scalp prickling as he gripped her hair tighter, the warmth of his kisses on her skin, the fire at her core. She ground her hips harder against his hard cock, finding a rhythm that made them both pant. Two layers of cotton between them and she was still soaking, rolling and riding his bulge on top of the rumbling and vibrating washer as the heat built inside her. His hands locked onto her hips, guiding her at the pace he knew she wanted, desperately wanted. “Scully,” he rasped. “You’re gonna make me come.”

His breath labored. “I can feel your heat right through our clothes.” She did too, bucking against him, finding his mouth and stifling her cries in their kiss. They hadn’t planned for things to go this far, with Molly upstairs and Jeffrey and Charlie on their way, but right now she didn’t care. Scully’s neck elongated as her head fell back, the vibrations of the spin cycle thumping through her. Mulder only thrusted faster. “God Mulder, I’m gonna come.. the feel of you.. you're so hard.” 

Mulder moaned, kissing the exposed skin. “Show me, Scully. Please, I need you to come,” he growled out.

Scully squeezed her eyes closed, just as the white sparks flew across her lids, taking her over the edge, Mulder covering her mouth, muffling her cries. She could feel her body shudder, the rhythm turning into spasms, but he took over, pushing and pulling her hips as he worked his cock against her, prolonging her orgasm, gasping his need for release. He pulled down his sweats to expose his long thick cock, his hand wrapping around the base, Scully’s insides clenched in anticipation and “fuuuckkk…” Mulder’s words disappearing into a groan, along with his cock as he tucked it away. He let out a whine. “I heard a knock. That has to be Jeffrey, no one has timing like he does.”

Low and behold, on the other end of the door, standing on the porch, was Jeffrey. “Mulder, Scully,” Jeffrey said as he acknowledged them. “Good morning. My scientist tells me, after careful testing, that we were successful in replication of your… cure.”

“I’m not certain we can consider it a cure considering the potency,” Scully commented, standing in front of Mulder, his erection tickling the small of her back.

“We have tested it, and people are recovering.” Jeffrey spoke in even soft tones, seemingly unaware of his interruption.

Scully looked back at Mulder. “I’m going to the lab with Jeffrey, they may need more of my blood, my DNA.”

Charlie snided as he let himself in the house and entered the room, “So much for the human race.”

“What does that mean?” Scully shot back.

“I’m just saying, your plan is to change everyone’s DNA? How do you know you aren’t playing into their hands? How do you know this isn’t exactly what they are planning you will do?”

“Aren’t we all really alien anyway?” Jeffrey chimed in. 

“Not exactly,” Scully said nervously. “We are an evolution from this planet.”

“They don’t have our complex emotions, morality, ethics. We are different,” Mulder muttered. “From our origins.”

“And where is that, Mulder?” Scully asked.

Mulder locked onto Scully’s eyes. He wanted to speak with her alone. With a look over at her brother and then at Jeffrey she answered him. “I have some clothes in the wash. Let me start the dryer and then we can go.”

Mulder met her in the back room. “You want to tell me what’s on your mind?” Mulder asked as soon as they were far from earshot.

“What’s bothering _you_ , Mulder?” Scully returned.

Mulder inhaled deeply. “Scully, what if we didn’t need to modify everyone’s DNA in order to save them? What if Charlie is right, what if giving everyone alien DNA is part of the plan, the grand plan. We could be playing right into their hands.”

“How is that?” 

“Modified DNA is what created super soldiers, bounty hunters, drones.”

“But how could my DNA, what’s inside me, do that Mulder?”

“I’m not sure. What if we could find another way? You said it yourself, long term, this virus will mutate and become resilient.”

“Gibson,” Scully said in revelation. “You believe Gibson might be the key?”

That stopped Mulder in his tracks. “Possibly.”

*****Sunday*****

Sunlight prismed through the stained glass of the church as Scully stepped inside. She reached into her saddlebag and handed Maggie her sippy cup of apple juice which Maggie eagerly slurped as she checked out all the church goers. 

“It’s been a while since I’ve been in one of these. Maggie’s baptism, I think,” Charlie muttered.

“If the walls didn’t crumble when I walked in, I think you’re in the clear,” Mulder replied.

After genuflecting, Scully took their regular seat inside and shortly after, the priest began his sermon: 

_“I see some new faces here today, which is always a welcome sight. It’s important to remember, when one cannot come to celebrate the mass, God is not contained by these walls. He is inside you, in the mountains, the rocks, the rivers, the spirit of all the animals. God is the love that made our world and we are safe with Him, with Love. Just as this is the house of God, so is the earth, we are with Him everywhere, all the time._

_Unfortunately, our earth is being desecrated daily. It is up to us to take the empty buildings and house the poor, take your riches and feed them. The devil cast himself to Earth years ago, but we let him in every time we worship the sins of the flesh, money and power, instead of Him. Only we can cast him out and teach our children to be weary of such a predator. Remember, as you leave today, your actions are all that prevents us or enables us to live in peace, love, and harmony with nature and Him.…”_

Maggie, who was playing with a folded missalette, reached for the bible inside the pew. Mulder picked her up and sat her on his lap facing the priest. Every so often he would bounce his knee to bring a smile to her face and a little giggle. She tossed her head back and patted his clean shaven cheek and whispered, “Dada.” 

Mulder pressed his lips to her forehead and gave her a kiss, “Love you, honey.”

Scully bent down to pick up the bible that fell from Maggie’s hands. She flipped through the pages to find the day’s readings. A yellow card inside one of the pages caught her eye. In the top right corner in small plain handwriting - _Agent Dana Scully, Sometimes we must come full circle to find the truth. Midnight tonight, Pete’s Diner, come alone._ She looked over at Mulder who was entertaining Maggie with sleight of hand. Carefully, she removed the card and folded it, placing it in her pocket in case there were prints she could get from it later. The page of the bible had a highlighted verse:

_And he said to me, It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. To the thirsty I will give from the spring of the water of life without payment. The one who conquers will have this heritage, and I will be his God and he will be my son._

Scully retrieved a pen from her pocket and copied the location, Revelation, 21:6-7. 

***Pete’s Diner, Washington D.C.*** 

The waitress brought over hot water and a selection of teas for Scully to choose from. Today she decided to go with an organic Chai. The clock over the bar clicked over to ten after midnight. She could see it from the booth. Maybe ten more minutes before she gave up and went home. Mulder didn’t want her there alone, but he didn’t put up much of an argument. Someone had to stay home to take care of Maggie and he knew Scully could take care of herself. 

The sound of the bell above the door drew Scully’s attention. Kevin, the boy she saved so long ago, now a full grown man, entered, his hands covered by black gloves, wearing a hooded jacket and Timberlands on his feet. He carried himself with an even stride and Scully thought he looked taller than the their last meeting. 

“Mrs. Mulder?” Kevin asked tentatively, holding out his gloved hand for her to shake and sliding into the booth. 

“Call me Dana,” Scully returned. “Are you taking care of yourself Kevin? Has your family been affected by the outbreak?”

“That’s why I wanted to meet with you. The outbreak spread through my office and I didn’t even get the sniffles. Before Gibson got your treatment to his staff, everyone in my house, my husband, my kids, they were all sick, yet I never got a stomach ache. Years ago, I had asked God for guidance and he came to me in a dream, a vision, with a scripture. The one I highlighted for you out of the Book of Revelations. That verse, stuck with me, haunting me, and later in life, when I heard the trumpets, I used the CRISPR CAS9 to inscribe it in my DNA, to make it part of my very being.”

“You performed this procedure when you heard the seven trumpets,” Scully repeated for clarity. 

“Yes, I heard the trumpets, and late in March of 2016 I performed the procedure.”

“Those trumpets, it made the news, even Mulder thought he heard them. Kevin, why are you coming to me?”

“Because I believe what I have inside me is the answer. If I can help save the world, protect my family… the end of times has come.” Slowly he removed his gloves, revealing the stigmata on his hands. Lifting his shirt, he revealed the telltale mark of the spear on his side, removing his hat he showed her the marks of the crown of thorns across his forehead. “They are on each foot as well.”

“You will need to come to the lab, we can do the tests there,” Scully said as her brow quivered. “If it is your DNA preventing you from being affected by the virus the results will tell us.”

Kevin shook his head. “I’m in danger. The angel of death is on my trail. At night Michael’s icy breath is tickling my neck and his cold tendrils wrap around me, choking me.”

“Then come back to my house. I have some equipment there. I can collect your blood, then bring it to the lab under the radar. You can spend the night until we can figure out a better way to protect you.”

“What about your daughter?”

“Mulder will protect her. I need to protect you.” 

*** 

Startled awake, Mulder flared, grabbing the monitor screen to make sure Maggie was okay. “Mulder, it’s me,” came the voice out of the dark. 

“Scully?” Mulder sat up and ran hand through his mane, spiking his hair. “What time is it?”

“It’s almost 3am,” she said sliding in next to him. “I brought Kevin back with me. He’s in danger. He’s being tracked and followed. Gibson may not be the key after all. It may just be Kevin.”

“Where is he?” Mulder asked as he watched her undress and redress into her silk nightwear. Watching her perform her nightly rituals never got old.

“He’s in William’s room. He’s staying the night. We’ll know more in the morning after I run the tests in the lab.”

Mulder rotated to his side so he could face her as she slid into bed. He searched her eyes, touched her face, glided his thumb along her cheek. Only with a slight quiver of her chin did her vulnerability show through. He pulled her in close and he felt her squeeze him back. “We will find the answers, Scully. You will find a way.” 

*

Rubbing her eyes, Scully made her way into the kitchen where Mulder was busy feeding Maggie her breakfast. Maggie, more interested in Peppa Pig blasting from the television in the other room, was pushing his hand away. 

“Where’s Kevin?” Scully asked as she opened her yogurt.

“I thought Kevin would stay for breakfast, but he was gone this morning when I came down. He left you a note saying he’ll call you later today,” Mulder replied pointing to the fridge. “And a wooden carving for Maggie. Looks like one of the ones Owen Jarvis used to make.”

An hour later, Scully’s cell danced across Mulder’s desk in the other room and Mulder watched her rush to get it. He didn’t need to hear the other end of the phone conversation, the distraught look on her face made his heart thump, his stomach turn, and his muscles flex in preparation to kill whatever caused that crease between her brows. 

“Yes.”, “No.”, “Yes. We’ll find him. We’re leaving now.” Scully ended the call. “That was Kevin’s husband. Kevin called him early this morning saying he was headed home. He never arrived.”

“What about Maggie?” Mulder asked as he gathered his gun and badge.

“She’ll have to come with us.”

*

They drove along I-95 and got off at Kevin’s exit, taking the desolate road that led to his house. A little farther down Scully released a painful groan of “No.” The tires crunched over wet ground and gravel as they pulled over to the side of the road behind Kevin’s car. It was clear from the dent on the side of the car that there had been an accident.

Scully called the local law enforcement and kept an eye on Maggie while Mulder searched for clues. He found none, other than the long deep cuts in the metal, covering the left side of the late model Volvo sedan. There was nothing suspicious inside the car that Mulder observed as he climbed in and searched under the seats as best he could. He felt Scully’s eyes upon him and looked back. Was she checking out his ass? Giving a little lightheartedness to the tense situation, he got out a little slower than he needed. 

“Anything?” She asked.

“There’s some black paint along the bumper, but the car itself isn’t telling us much. The keys are still in the ignition, money and wallet in the center console,. I don’t see any signs of a struggle.”

“The tracks outside have been raked over.” She looked up at him. “No tire tracks, no footprints.” 

Mulder walked away from her, distracted by a sparkling flicker on the ground near a tree. He bent down to pick it up and realized it was one of Kevin’s credit cards. There was blood. Mulder carefully slipped it into one of the sandwich baggies he had shoved in his pocket just for this purpose. 

“Mulder, you’re contaminating a possible crime scene,” Scully called from the other side of the car as he palmed the credit card, placing it into his pocket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there has been a couple Kevins on the xfiles, but this is the one from S3 "Revelations". At the end of the episode he told Scully they would meet again. He was right.


	6. Spiraling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the search for Kevin, Mulder and Scully find themselves following the clues down a rabbit hole.

The headlights dimmed on the silver Audi as it pulled up behind Mulder and Scully’s SUV. Jalen, Kevin’s husband, wasted no time, fighting his way passed the local police to them. Scully watched him sink to his knees, with tears in his eyes and the grass staining his jeans as he projectile vomited over the crime scene. Mulder shook his head. “That’s a lot more contaminating than swiping a credit card,” he muttered.

Scully passed him a dubious look and placed a hand at Kevin’s husband’s back, the sour scent penetrating her nostrils even as she gently guided him a few feet away. “Deep breath, Jalen. We don’t know if that is his blood. We need to keep our focus on him being alive. We have found no proof otherwise.” He nodded as he wiped his mouth on the sleeve of his windbreaker. Then she added, “We must have faith.”

This raised Mulder’s eyebrows. Scully made certain Jalen had pulled himself together before stepping into the shadows with Mulder.

“You still think it’s you? You still think you’re the one who has been chosen to protect Kevin?” Mulder whispered, the harshness of his tones cutting through her.

“If that’s true, then I have failed,” Scully countered, tight jawed, tilting her head in defiance, while pressing her hands against her thighs to keep them from shaking. So many years later and the thought of unexplained truths still made her body quiver. “Why don’t you ever want to believe any of this could be true?” she added.

“It’s not for me to believe. It was meant for you.” Mulder’s voice, tepid and caring, was like an electric blanket casting over her nerves. 

With a chin up and a rigid nod, she returned to the crime scene, Mulder close behind. “Mulder, look,” Scully directed, pointing over at the mud close to where Jalen had been sick.

“It does bear a striking resemblance to the Pope, but why is he riding a dolphin?” Mulder deadpanned, clearly referring to the remains of Jalen’s breakfast.

“No Mulder, over here. Pressed into the dirt. It’s a bubble gum wrapper. That's Fruit Stripe gum. I remember chewing it as a child. It's got those unique stripes on the wrapper. I didn't even know they still sold it. Mulder are you listen...” Scully looked up when Mulder failed to respond. He was already headed off to check on Maggie whom one of the officers was babysitting. The sheriff approached Mulder and struck up a conversation. 

“Another call came in,” the Sheriff explained, “there’s been a murder.”

They followed the police cars in silence, Maggie silently playing with her doll in her carseat, Jalen’s car close behind. Scully could feel Mulder’s gears turning and she didn’t want to be a wrench with idle chatter. Besides, her own mind was searching for its own answers. The radio spoke of the virus outbreak, now said to be transferred by physical objects as well as human contact. It had appeared in almost every state and was quickly spreading across the globe. Flights were being cancelled, store shelves emptied, and people were being advised to stay inside unless necessary. Scully glanced back to see Maggie sleeping peacefully, healthy and happy. Instinctively, she tested to make certain the doors were locked.

The police led them to a gas station. With Maggie left sleeping in the car with a couple officers on guard, they made their way inside. They walked, following the flat streaks of blood, bright red under the overhead fluorescents. By the time they got to where the CSI had finished, they were in a back room. The corpse soaked in more blood, slumped over, his arms behind his back, bound by wire. A screwdriver penetrating his upper chest.

“Scully,” Mulder said crouching down for a closer inspection, “the other day, when I asked you to screw me to death,” he mimicked the motion of the killer trying to find the correct angle of penetration, “this wasn’t what I meant.”

Jalen called from the front, interrupting Scully’s scowl. They jogged to the counter where Jalen stood, his face blanched. “Kevin stopped here for gas. It was his last credit card transaction.” 

“We’ve got two witnesses,” the officer added. “They had stopped in and bought beer. They said the man in the back is not who attended to them. The attendant was a white man, but a darker skin tone. They were able to describe Kevin pumping gas, but said he had driven off without going inside. They also said there was a dark van parked up front.”

“What about eye color?” Mulder inquired.

The officer rolled his eyes and scratched at his beard. “They couldn’t say.” He looked closer at his notes and read. “I’ll never forget the empty look in his eyes. They were dark. Black. Like the devil himself was staring back at me.”

The sheriff walked from the back. “I spoke with my deputies. We’re including Kevin in our search. He’s in the process of alerting the townspeople to look for leads as they do their sweep of their assigned grid.”

“ _Including_ Kevin? There’s another search going on?” Scully asked.

“Forty two hours ago we had two young girls go missing. We’re still searching for one. The other was found, hours ago, under the bridge, raped and murdered, strangled. A heart cut out of her dress.”

Cold lightning ricocheted up Scully’s spine, then back down to her tailbone. She reached for Mulder’s arm and gripped him just above the wrist over his new Michael Kors suit. It wouldn’t help. The rabbit had already lept into the hole. 

“Has the autopsy already been done on the first girl?” Mulder asked, his eyes unblinking, unwavering as he stared at the Sheriff.

“To my knowledge, it’s still being prepped.”

Mulder turned his head as Scully shook hers. “Scully, take Maggie to Monica’s, you perform the autopsy. I’m going back to the scene.”

“Mulder, I’m an assistant director in the FBI,” Scully reminded him. “I’m sure the forensics team is more than capable of performing the autopsy.” She knew he was still not convinced she shouldn’t do it. “I know you want to join the search for this little girl, but Kevin must be our focus. They already have agents assigned to that case.”

“But they don’t know what we know, Scully. They are not us.” 

“There’s no time,” Scully said, but she could no longer look him in the eye. When she looked up, he was walking away. “Mulder, where are you going?”

Mulder did a 360, walking backwards a few steps. “You want to find Kevin. I’m going back to the scene.” He turned back around and hit the bell on the top of the door frame before adding, “Do the autopsy, I’ll meet you in the lab.”

*

The weight of the flashlight gave Mulder an extra shot of energy. With both him and it fully charged, he pressed the button and with its reliable click, his beam powered into the night, cutting through the darkness and into the trees beyond. It felt good to re-hone his skills on the steel of a cold case. If only he hadn’t let that last fabric heart, burn in the office fire. At least he still had photographs of the pattern. Not that he would ever forget. 

His shoes crunched under the pebbles and wet dirt as he made his way into the woods. He only walked as far as the sight-line, then started back over in a different direction. What he was searching for he wasn’t certain. A southeastern direction headed him towards where the little girl was found underneath the bridge. His spotlight traced across the solid iron bars, the wind bending limbs of small trees growing from the rocks. He dropped his light further down on the white peaks of the black water below. At what point had she been strangled? What had those final thoughts of this young child been? Was there any peace in knowing she couldn’t be hurt or scared any longer? Mulder’s eyelids squeezed and a deep line formed between his brows thinking of his own children, his sister. How could he keep anyone safe when the darkness followed him? 

Retracing his steps, he crossed a drainage pipe underneath the bridge. Mulder paused. How did this man get to the bridge? No one noticed a car on what appeared to be a busy main road, no one saw him carrying this girl. Mulder hopped down into the mud by the drainage area, soaking the bottom of his slacks and scuffing his shoes. The pipe was big enough to accommodate a person. He sent the beam down into the tunnel and proceeded. His footsteps echoed, the smell of rotting leaves and mildew scented the air, the only other sounds were the traffic overhead. Inside, he was isolated and alone. No one would hear the screams. He powered off his flashlight and immersed himself in the darkness. It felt like crossing over into another dimension of time. The back of his hairs stood on end as he pictured the girl, being tortured, raped, and finally strangled. Did her killer enjoy the thrill of being outdoors? Of possibly getting caught? Was it the claustrophobia of the tunnel? The thrill of washing out the innocence, wanting his childhood back? Did time play a factor? Was he excited by the urgency? The chord ripping into her flesh, her blood shooting from her body? He turned on his flashlight and ran the beam carefully, searching the floor, the walls. Splatter on the walls. Dirt? No. Blood. 

As soon as he stepped from the pipe, Mulder’s cell phone rang. “Hey, Scully.”

“The autopsy is finished. The victim had blonde hair, cause of death, strangulation with eight gage wire, semen was found on the dress, and a small Alice and Mad Hatter keychain with a rabbit’s foot was found in the pocket. Mulder, it’s not possible, he’s dead.”

“Copycat?”

“The police have several leads. People have come forward.” There was a pause and Mulder could feel her concern in each breath. “Let them do their jobs, Mulder. We have to continue the search for Kevin.”

“I found a drainage pipe,” Mulder countered. “I think that is where the girl was strangled. There’s blood spatter. Any leads from the evidence in the gas station?”

“No. Whoever it was, is a professional. They left no fingerprints.”

“Did we get any fingerprints off of the credit card I found by Kevin’s car?” 

“Kevin’s prints were there and we were able to obtain one other, but they didn’t register in any of the databases.”

“What about the blood?”

“We analyzed the DNA and it is not a match to Kevin’s or anyone in the database. I wish we had more answers.”

“No,” Mulder replied, distracted. “That actually answers a lot.”

*

The spear of the tack pierced through the paper, bursting it open and into the cork as Mulder’s thumb applied force. It was the picture of the missing girl, alongside the picture of the one whose life had been taken. To the right were the suspects: A stepdad that matched the supposed profile, another of a person owning a van matching the one that was in the area at that time of the gas station stabbing, another person with a long list of crimes that was seen by the bridge, and lastly, all family and friends or anyone in contact with the children. All their DNA samples would be taken to match that found on the credit card and the semen on the dress. Mulder didn’t believe it would match because none of these men matched his profile. They were looking for an introvert with priors and violence as a child. He was looking for a friendly, charming personality, possibly a bedwetter as a child, someone who traveled, someone who felt a connection… to Roche, to Alice in Wonderland. With the thick black marker he wrote below the other traits - vacuum cleaner? Bookworm?

The music made Scully’s stomach twist as it came blasting from Mulder’s computer. 

_“One pill makes you larger, one pill makes you small, the ones that mother gives you don’t do anything at all. Go ask Alice, when she’s ten feet tall.”_

How was he even able to concentrate? She stepped across the threshold and into his office, even with all the anxiety, her primal instincts admired his form as he reached to make more notes on his war board. 

_“And the white knight is talking backwards, and the red queen’s off with her head, remember what the dormouse said, feed your head… feed your head.”_

Scully walked to his computer and paused the music. It didn’t phase him; he continued to put up pictures and take notes. Her need to sooth and nurture him overcame all else and she took a firm hold of his shoulder, holding it there until she felt the muscles relax underneath her fingers. She gently squeezed. “It’s been over twenty-four hours, you haven’t slept Mulder.”

“Feed your head,” Mulder said, repeating the lines of the song, continuing to stare at the board. “He’s taunting me, Scully.”

“Do you think Kevin and this girl are connected?”

“I don’t know.” Mulder put his head down and let the magnet on the marker lift it from his fingers to the frame of the corkboard. 

Scully ran both her hands down his back, feeling muscles and bones needing her. She found herself needing him, to not push her away, to not get lost as he navigated the dark pathways of a twisted mind. Her body fell against his and his palms flattened against the board. She ran her hands down the front of his slacks, his thighs bulged and flexed against her heated skin. Delicately, she slowly drew up towards his waist. Mulder spun around and crashed his mouth against hers. His jaw worked hers at a desperate pace. Her eyes closed and her tongue slid along his, Mulder's arms coiled around her body tightening incrementally - the kiss becoming more frenetic, his lips hungry, his mouth seeming to seal the oxygen within her lungs ... her insides clenched.


	7. Saving Lives

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/164474329@N02/49727951071/in/dateposted/)

**Andaman Sea, Myanmar - 7 days prior**

The ground shook and a tremor took hold of the planet. The black oil, awakened from its zombie state, released itself in a powerful arcing wave from the volcano. Blasting through earthen soot it darkened the sky and radiated it’s sacrin air, landing and crawling inside the human hosts that fell helpless against them.

William stood at the deck of the great carrier watching in horror, but not fear. His blue eyes, almost cobalt, shifted down towards the sea and felt the power of the ship once burrowed deep into the Earth’s core. It called to him and he answered. The alien ship rose, bursting through the frigid waters that crest above the horizon. The percussive rumble as the alien ship broke through the oceanic crust, and burst above the icy waters that crested above the horizon, was enough to shake the heavens. It hovered and slowly rotated, showering algae, rocks and sea life back into the oceanic depths, its nose tilting towards William as if in a bow to its master. 

**February 20, 2020**

Mulder stared into the depths of the water, the swimming fish almost hypnotic. Voices from the past drowned his thoughts. He felt his friends, his family, his trusted few, anoint him from the celestial heavens. They were speaking and he was listening. This virus would not be humanity’s ending, but a catalyst for a beginning long overdue. Reluctantly, he came back to himself, his gaze settling on his poor deceased fish. 

Maggie ran her greasy fingers over the thick glass of the fish tank leaving a rainbow sheen with the aid of the morning light breaking through the window. She watched intently as her daddy used the tiny fish net to scoop out the Molly laying belly up. The look on her father’s face sent tears to her own eyes. She gripped his leg tight and his hand cupped over the top of her head.

“It’s okay, it’s just a fish,” Mulder said with a weak smile, but the sadness in his eyes told a different story and the oceans looking up at him melted him into submission. Mulder sighed. “This was the last fish I bought with your grandmother, Maggie. She meant a lot to me and I loved her very much. That’s why you’re named after her. Because I love you so very much M.”

He crouched down and gave her a big one armed hug, but Maggie was quick and took hold of the netting, cupping the fish. “M, no, the fish is dead. It’s…” He stopped mid sentence as he saw it wiggle. Quickly, he dropped it back into the tank and it swam around without a care in the world. Mulder released a puff of air from his cheeks.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/164474329@N02/49728038801/in/dateposted/)

“M, you shouldn’t keep doing that. Every life is meant to end, eventually.” He looked down at her rosy smiling face, her freckles shining, awaiting his approval. She was still too young to understand or to even begin to explain it to.

“Thank you, M,” he added, deciding to discuss with Scully the best way to approach the situation. Mulder knew through studies that abilities usually surfaced as a person approached the pubescent age, but Maggie’s healing ability seemed to have formed from the womb. It made him ponder what else might be in store for his little girl.

**CIA Headquarters, Langley, Virginia - Director’s Office**

“A flop transition can indeed happen in string theory. The point of puncture will always be shielded by a string so that nothing catastrophic will happen to the outside universe except tiny changes in the masses of the individual particles,” X’s daughter explained to Skinner. “If they indeed tore through to other universes, it is theoretically possible for it to be repaired without destroying either universe.” 

Skinner's gaze fell to the floor, his hands rising to his hips as he digested the information. Alika, X’s daughter and now head of the CIA, had led a team to overtake the Dyson ship, fighting by their side, Skinner and his family were able to escape. Alika’s actions caused a severe divide between the U.S. Department of Defense, World Defense, a shadow subgroup of the United Nations, and the CIA. Alika wouldn’t even entertain the conversation to maintain solidarity for the sake of politics. Her priorities were unwavering. Still, what she was proposing, what needed to be done to close the tear, was risky.

“I’ll lead the task force,” Skinner replied, his voice strong, properly representing the stalwart man that had braved almost a century's worth of tumultuous times. “But only if I pick my team.” 

**Farrs Corner, VA**

The recently deceased fish swam around the tank, ducking behind a treasure chest. Mulder reached for the fish food. “Our molly is omnivorous, eating both plants and animals,” he explained to Maggie as she intently watched him delicately tap the fish flakes into her hand. “It’s important not to overfeed and they like to eat everyday at the same time. I always feed ours in the morning. See how eager they are swimming back and forth? They know the food is coming. Go ahead, M. Sprinkle it in.”

Maggie giggled as she let the flakes fall from her tiny pudgy hands. “Good job, M.”

She carefully brushed the last of the flakes with her other hand. 

Mulder's cell buzzed in his back pocket. He answered the phone with one hand as he carried Maggie to her room to entertain herself with her toys on her playmat. 

“Mulder, it’s me. I’m still at the hospital. I got a call from the sheriff. They’ve got another lead. The person who left the tip said they have a crawlspace with inside access. They obtained the warrant. I want to stay at the hospital as long as possible treating the sick, but I will meet you there at three p.m.” Mulder looked at the time. It was only 9:30. “Okay,” he replied and ended the call. 

**Somewhere in rural Virginia**

Maggie was safe at Molly’s, but Mulder’s thoughts were still on her as he held his weapon, ready to fire, while the officers barreled down the door to the suspect’s home. The officers searched, tearing the place to shreds, couches tossed, drawers defiled, while Mulder carefully looked at photos on shelves and pictures mounted on the wall. This didn’t match the profile. In the sink were a stack of dirty dishes. His killer would have been meticulous. His killer would have been more into paintings and the arts. The shelves contained no Hans Christian Anderson, Alice Liddell, or Lewis Carroll. 

“I’ve located the crawlspace!” an officer hollered.

Underneath the staircase, behind a display cabinet was a door, about the size of a cupboard. Detective Mark moved over to the door and dusted for prints. “Whatever is behind this door Mulder, I think is going to break at least one of these cases wide open.” After taking his samples he opened the door with a gloved hand. It creaked and grated on its rusty hinges. 

Mulder followed close behind wondering why Scully wasn’t there yet. The unsoftened echo of winter’s feet brought on a claustrophobic aire as Mulder hung his head low in order to fit. A string of what Mulder thought were cobwebs made him claw at his face in restrained panic, yet the cold metal made him realize it was a simple pull chain for a bare bulb dangling from the ceiling. He pulled it and the gray dungeon illuminated. His nose wrinkled at the stagnant musty aroma. Mulder guessed most of the mold was staved off from the heat transferring from the floorboards above.

“He could have built almost anything down here and no one would know,” Mark said to Mulder, clicking on his flashlight for closer inspection. “Look at the walls, looks like he sound-proofed it, and with only that one six inch ventilation window, it would make it impossible to escape.” His light followed along the seams of insulation. “This guy has skills, he could see the possibilities.”

The only possibility Mulder saw was an overgrown backyard through a dirty window muddied by the splashing of rain from the close ground. 

What is it about being in a dark dank basement that seemed to amplify every sound, Mulder wondered. The creaking of the door hinge and tattering of boards made both Mark and Mulder flinch, but the familiar radiance shining from Scully’s newly acquired SureFire P3X Fury tactical flashlight made Mulder’s heart slow. He crooked the corner of his mouth into a smile. “Hey.”

It warmed him as she returned with an even wider one. “Find anything?”

_ My reason to live _ , he thought in his head and sent it to her through his eyes. He watched her cheeks heat in acknowledgement. “Nothing substantial.”

Scully scooted past him not breaking their eye contact, as he tried not to audibly gulp. Within minutes Scully rang out, “Mulder, over here.”

She pointed over to a child’s doll, tattered and tarnished with cracked porcelain skin slumped on a plain stool. It had been obscured by some stacked bins, but now its wide eyed bottomless stare met Mulder in sudden disbelief. He quickly shook it off. 

Mike quickly took pictures and dusted the area, while Scully searched the floor for signs of food scraps or human defecation. 

“I’m going to run these prints by the lab,” Mike said in excitement. “Why don’t we regroup in a few hours.”

Scully nodded and watched him get into his unmarked car and take off. Without looking at Mulder she asked, “He doesn’t fit your profile?”

“No,” Mulder responded.

“New evidence puts him at the scene,” Scully reminded him.

“He didn’t do it Scully,” Mulder re-affirmed. “Did you get in contact with anyone at the correctional facility?”

“I did. They still had some hard copy files on Roche and they let me take them home since they were in the process of going completely paperless.”

“You found something. What is it?” Mulder asked, his mind sparking into fifty directions. 

Scully hesitated and finally let out a plea. “You have a daughter, Mulder. She needs you.”

“I know that,” Mulder growled with a molten undercurrent. He quickly dropped his voice. “What am I doing, if not protecting her?” 

Scully’s eye dropped to the floor and Mulder laid a comforting hand at her shoulder. “Just tell me.”

“Someone has been writing to him.” Scully gently lifted her head to meet his eyes. “His name is C. I. Roswell. Seems he saw Roche’s story on television and it spurred something personal. Sent him emails, letters…”

Reluctantly, she handed the file to Mulder. “What are you going to do?”

He chewed the side of his cheek as he tucked the file under his arm. “I’m headed back to the office, then possibly where Kevin’s car was spotted. You?”

“I have to finish up at the hospital.”

Mulder took a step back onto the lawn and looked Scully over. Her eyes were sunken and she looked paler, ashen. “Scully, how much blood have you given?”

She took in a slow deep breath, and lifted her chin indignantly. “Not enough.”

Mulder knew he wasn’t going to win an argument so he left it at that and headed off.

*

There was so much tension in the brittle hospital air, Scully thought it might snap or maybe she would. Organized chaos, monitors beeping in uneven cadence, the lights blinking as if in Morse code, the cloying smell of disinfectants in the undercurrent of blood and bodily secretions. Moans of pain echoed down the hallway, fragile voices, pleading for help along with the hurried heavy tread of nurses and doctors and squeaking of gurneys and wheelchairs rolling.

“All available clinical staff, please report to Triage A Level 1 STAT,” crackled over the loudspeakers and displayed on her phone along with another code blue following closely behind.

With the sick and death toll rising, Scully felt more compelled to save them, the responsibility of her immunity laying heavy on her shoulders. 

She let out a heavy breath before looking through her microscope, testing if the virus had mutated. There was some solace in the success of the people she saved. With a herd immunity they were able to care for the sick and use their own blood to save others.

While she carefully placed the specimens into the refrigerator, her phone buzzed again. She reached in and answered it. “Scully.”

“Assistant Director Scully. It’s Mark. The results came back. The evidence was enough to make the arrest. It took a bit, but he gave us our confession. I wanted to thank you personally for all your help on this case. I’m sure the sheriff will be contacting you shortly.” 

“He confessed?” Scully asked, slightly surprised.

“We got it out of him. I’ll send you a copy of the write-up and whatever else you need for your report.”

“Yes.. uh.. Thank you,” Scully said, already thinking what she might tell Mulder. “No leads to Kevin?”

“Not yet Assistant Director, given the amount of time... but we haven’t given up. The case is still open.”

She ended the call and walked down the hall and into the Command Center Conference room to join the rest of the Emergency Crisis Response Team already well into their meeting. She gave her update and was about to head out when the CMO stopped her to give her the list of the visiting doctors volunteering their services during the crisis. He wanted Scully to organize and instruct the new team going forward. It had been a long day, her shift already extending past the 14 hour mark, so she simply gathered the doctors for a quick face to face and gave them a rudimentary pass-down before leaving for the day. 

*

Laying in bed, Mulder on his pillow and Scully on her own, she bathed in the sunshine within his eyes, the light inside always green for her. She loved that burned within the layers, it went on for eternity, releasing perfect tendrils of warmth. The thought that the gun of guilt and anger could have once extinguished such a torrent of passions when the FBI had first betrayed him, left her with her own mixed emotions.

“I know you feel our sole focus should be on this viral pandemic,” Mulder said in the tone he reserved for the bewitching of twilight. 

“But I need something physical to fight. I’ve been chasing the wind lately... and finding Kevin, even if he isn’t the key… I need this Scully. Can you understand?”

Scully released her invisible hold of disapproval and felt his soul bridge to hers, his breathing become softer, his pensive look melting into almost a smile. She, in turn, allowed his gaze to relax every muscle within her, that feeling she could get from no other. “Yes. Of course, Mulder.” 

His arm came gently to rest on her waist and her body naturally drew closer. “I was retracing the steps at the scene. I believe the serial killer witnessed Kevin’s abduction.”

Hearing the strength of his heartbeat against her ear made her suddenly feel weak, succumbing to the toll she had been taking on her body. “Did you go down to the station, interview him?”

“Why? He didn’t do it. He may have committed a crime, but it wasn’t killing that little girl, and there is still another girl out there.”

“You believe that last girl is still alive.”

“I believe he hasn’t finished torturing her. No.”

“Is it possible, just this once, we might be wrong?”

That brought on a full smile, putting his porcelain teeth on full display. “Absolutely not.”

“Mulder, how do we know you’ve built up immunities to this virus? What if you’re a carrier now?”

“Either way, we have the ultimate weapon, Scully. We have M.”

Scully didn’t like at all her daughter being referred to as a weapon and she let her disapproval for such a cruel slip of his tongue be known through her eyes. “Is she? We don’t know anything of her abilities or even if she has any real control.”

The answer, Scully felt, in the rumble of Mulder’s chest when she laid her head against it, but sleep finally overtook her and she drifted wrapped safe and secure in the shield of his arms before she could hear the answer. Every ounce of her pressed into every ounce of him. Such a simple gesture, his touch made the room warmer somehow, the future within its walls a little less bleak.

**Lady of Sorrows**

The humidity in the ICU only compounded the stress they were under. Another 130 children admitted. As soon as they were shuffled out, more poured in, Scully working side by side with the volunteers. Thank God they had come, offering a tiny relief to the other staff members. 

“Dr. Carl, are you from another pediatric hospital or do you have a private practice?” Scully asked to pass the time, practicing her social behavior.

“I work out of several privately owned pediatric practices. Helping Hands Pediatrics and The ABC’s of Children’s Health are two of them. I hold privileges at a dozen hospitals in our state.” 

The skin at the edge of his eyes crinkled and Scully knew he was smiling underneath his PPE. His jovial voice caused a corresponding one to grace her own face as she donned a simple cover shield and surgical mask, foregoing the N95 so that the exposed staff had adequate supply. As she worked side by side with him throughout the day, she revised her initial opinion that he was bragging about his accomplishments. He had a way about putting the patients at ease. Especially the children.

By the time Scully returned to the private lab, she was exhausted. Putting in four hours in the lab after her shift had drained her both physically and mentally. She pulled her sleeve down to cover the hematoma that had formed after she’d drawn her 4th vial of blood. She dreaded the worry she already knew would appear on Mulder’s face.

The hospital had set up a temporary sleeping area for the children whose parents were currently under quarantine or had passed. Children and Youth Services were backlogged and could not take them. Our Lady of Sorrows being a charity hospital did what it had always done. It administered to the sick and the poor. 

One of the rooms Scully passed on her way out of the hospital was crowded by several nurses standing around the doorway, their eyes looking inward. “What’s going on?” she asked and one of the nurses pointed. She stepped closer and heard the voice she had been listening to all day carrying on about his devotion to his patients.

Dr. Carl was sitting in the middle of the room, surrounded by children lying on their assigned cots, reading. 

“He could have left,” said one of the nurses, “but he volunteered to give these frightened children some comfort. I think this is the 3rd story he’s told them. He’s wonderful with making voices and he sings too.”

“I wonder if he’s married?” Another nurse sighed.

“Have a good night everyone,” were Scully’s parting words as she turned and made her weary way out of the hospital. It took stopping once or twice for the dizziness that had plagued her to subside. When she returned home, she’d be sure to take her supplemental iron along with her other vitamins. She almost cried when she saw Mulder waiting there in the SUV, acknowledging that driving probably would not have been the best idea.

Mulder glanced worriedly her way, “You okay Scully?”

She turned her head towards the passing trees. “Yeah… just tired.” 

“You should rest then,” he replied softly.

It was all she needed to hear for her heavy eyelids to close. Unknowingly, she began humming the tune she’d heard over and over earlier in the day of Dr. Carl’s ringtone every time one of his offices called him with a question.

*

Mulder handed Scully a cup of tea as he sat back on the couch so she could use his chest for a pillow. He sipped his toasty java and stroked her arm as she peered up at him. “Scully, you were humming a song when you fell asleep in the car.”

“I was?” Scully said and her nose crinkled as if anticipating his critique.

Mulder hummed a few bars to jog her memory. 

Scully nodded and yawned. “Oh, I guess because I heard it so often yesterday.” Mulder eyebrows beseeched her to continue. “It was Dr. Carl’s ringtone.”

As she spoke, Scully’s cell rang and as she responded via text to a nurse regarding one of her patients. Mulder needed her attention back. This was too incredible to wait. “Dr. Carl?” he asked impatiently. “Man or woman? You’ve never mentioned a Dr. Carl before.”

“A man. Hold on and I’ll get his full name.” Scully sent another text to the nurse and she replied back shortly after. “Dr. Carl I. Roswell - he’s volunteering his time. His bedside manner with the patients is wonderful. I can see why he’s a popular pediatrician.”

Mulder’s chest tightened. “You’re kidding me. Jesus, Scully that’s an anagram.”

The tone of Mulder’s voice made Scully’s eyes bulge as he grabbed her attention. “For what, Mulder?”

“Lewis Carroll, the author of Alice in Wonderland. You were humming the Mad Hatter’s Un-Birthday Song.”

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/164474329@N02/49727953191/in/dateposted/)


	8. Not All Who Wander Are Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're in the middle of three cases, one to find Kevin and the other to find one little girl's killer and another that has gone missing. Mulder, sucked back into the world of profiling, has done his best not to allow himself to become completely absorbed, but the cracks have started to show. The police already have a suspect in custody, but Mulder believes they have the wrong man. Hot on the trail, refusing to give up on the last missing girl, Mulder is racing to the house of who he believes has her.  
> Meanwhile, Scully is tearing herself in two directions - draining herself of blood trying to save the world, and trying to find Kevin.

Weaving dangerously in and out of traffic, half blinded by the glare of oncoming headlights and the onslaught of bullet sized rain drops thundering onto the windshield, Mulder raced to the doctor’s address. The SUV read Scully’s latest text to Mulder. Their suspect, Dr. Carl, had reported to work and Scully had him in her sights. The radio resumed and the president was now speaking, declaring martial law. The military had been dispatched against its own terrified citizens. It might have calmed the rioters, but no one had yet to reveal the truth - the same government claiming to protect its people, had turned on them. What had begun many years before most that currently walk this planet were even born, and targeting those left who might just be able to speak the truth. 

When Mulder arrived on the grounds he had no warrant, only his instincts. Quickly, he looked for signs or a basement or maybe attic, but the outbuildings caught his eye first. Parking on the street, he grabbed his flashlight, tightened his hoodie, and headed out.

The rain didn’t let up as he sloshed around in the mud. One building after another he rummaged through only to come up empty. Hell, he even checked the wine cellar. The water had soaked through his shoes and his shirt. Night had fallen and chills set into his bones. Mulder was beginning to realize he had been wrong. Were there really such things as coincidences?

*

“That’s a catchy song,” Scully said cooly, referring to the doctor’s ringtone.

The doctor ignored the call and instead answered Scully, “Alice in Wonderland. Me and my brother’s favorite movie. In fact, he was the one that changed it to ring like that.” 

“You have a brother?” Scully asked, trying to find a connection with the man.

“Yes, his name is Christopher,“ Dr. Carl said, typing into the computer adjacent to Scully’s. 

“I have two brothers,” Scully answered. “There’s been years that we’ve been very close. Other years I could not say the same.”

“My brother and I have always been close,” Dr. Carl countered. “For a while we were all we had.”

“Your parents weren’t around?”

“We were foster kids. Spent a lot of time in the system. That’s why I gravitated towards pediatrics. Give children some happiness in their healing process.” 

Scully’s cell rang interrupting them. She excused herself and stepped in the other room to answer. “Scully, I haven’t uncovered anything yet. I’m going to have to leave before his wife and kids return. You having any luck?”

“No,” Scully admitted and then offered delicately, “Could it be possible that the detective arrested the right man?”

There were a couple seconds of silence and Scully almost regretted bringing it up. Then Mulder piped in, “I’m going to do one more pass along the property line, then I’m heading back.”

“Okay,” Scully replied, taking a moment to listen to him breathe, to feel their connection until her face flushed. “Mulder?”

“Yeah?”

“Be Careful.”

*

Ready to pack it in, he ended the call and walked the fence line. A tree rustled on the neighbor’s property and a black and white cat let out a call. He shone his flashlight on the branch and the cat turned and scurried down the trunk, pausing halfway down. It felt like the friggin cat was challenging Mulder to follow. Then the cat disappeared. Mulder blinked hard and thought he might have had one too many cups of coffee. Attempting to see where the cat went, he pulled himself up so he could see over the white picket fence. The cat was gone, but a rabbit sat in the grass. 

“I should have done more drugs in college,” Mulder muttered to himself as he set a nearby empty planting pot on the ground and used it to hoist himself over the fence. 

*

“Everything okay?” Dr. Carl asked Scully when she returned.

“Yeah, yes. It was my partner. He had to update me on a case. Wh-Where were we?”

“We were reviewing the results, charts, along with the x-rays, and we were telling each other our life stories.” Dr. Carl smiled.

“That’s right. You were telling me about foster care," Scully said. "I’ve lost both my parents, but as an adult. That must have been hard on you.” She sat back down in her chair and continued typing.

Dr. Carl’s eyes glazed over, his body appearing to almost shrink. “One day, my grandfather came to pick us up for the weekend like he often did. He took us to the park like always, went back to his house where grandma fed us. Spent the whole weekend with them. Came back to the house with lollipops in our mouths and mad hatter hats’ on our head. My brother toting a cage with a little white rabbit he talked my grandfather into buying at the pet store. When we walked in the door Sunday afternoon, there was our mother, slumped over in the kitchen chair, peaceful, we thought she was sleeping. Until we saw the dried blood trickled from the side of her head. My brother screamed and my grandfather cried. I remember the tablecloth painted in splattered blood like a Jackson Pollock. I had always been an admirer of the arts. Across the table, my father, his head slung back. Forensics told us my father shot my mother then killed himself. He had always been violent, but we didn’t understand.” 

Dr. Carl took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Well, our grandparents were too old to raise us, in a couple years they were in nursing homes. So it was just me and my brother on our own. We were too old for anyone to want to adopt us, so we stayed in foster care. On my 18th birthday I became legal guardian to my brother and we changed our names, no longer wanting to carry the name of our father. Christopher came up with our last names, Roswell.”

“Where does he live, your brother. In Virginia?”

“Yeah, in fact, we’re so close, we share one of our practices and he purchased the property next to me. My kids love him.”

*

Mulder landed with a thud, coming down too hard on his legs and using his momentum to roll so he didn’t hurt himself. The commotion must have startled the rabbit for Mulder watched as it hopped away into the trunk of the tree. Mulder followed. The tree had a makeshift door and a little doggy door at the bottom where Mulder surmised the cat and the rabbit disappeared. He jiggled the handle, but it was locked. His phone buzzed again.

“Scully, I think I found some…”

“Mulder, it’s Jeffrey. I believe I’ve found the proof. Our father _wants_ Scully to turn the entire human race into aliens. The vaccine is a trap. First they promote fear as the virus spreads, then they offer a vaccine that everyone is all too eager to get in line for. Sure, it halts the deterioration of your immunity, but what it leaves behind… Mulder, it’ll leave us primed to become complacent, slaves… And bees Mulder…” 

About to interrupt Jeffrey, Mulder stood and took a step back preparing to bust through the tree door when his back collided with a solid object. Mulder swung around and dropped his phone, as he met glowing green eyes. 

*

With kind eyes, Dr. Carl reached into this pocket and pulled out a pack of Fruit Stripe gum, offering Scully a piece before removing the wrapper of a single stick and folding one into his mouth. It was the same wrapper she had found at the crime scene. Not too many people still chewed that gum. The hairs on the back of Scully’s neck stood on end. She had to warn Mulder.

* 

Without warning, the man swung his right fist in a vicious uppercut, Mulder was swift enough to move out of the way enough for it to only skim his ear. His right hand snapped forward and grabbed the underside of the man’s right wrist. As he pulled the man forward, Mulder ducked down and turned, driving his shoulder into the man’s chest. Using the man’s momentum against him, Mulder straightened up and yanked hard on the man’s wrist, flipping him up and over so he crashed to the ground on his back. 

The fight should have stopped there, but Mulder’s back spasmed. The pain, excruciating. Mulder straightened up, clutching at his lower back. It gave the man a chance to get back to his feet. He charged forward grabbing at Mulder’s shirt and pulling them both to the ground. They grappled together, wrestling on the cold wet grass. Mulder’s back howled in protest and he grimaced in pain as hot daggers shot threw his body, as the man pinned him to the ground. Mulder punched blindly at where the attackers face might be. The attacker pinned Mulder again and now it became a test of pure strength and stamina. Mulder tried to roll the man over to his back, but his back betrayed him and he couldn’t get the leverage he needed. It caused the man’s hand to break free and with a closed fist landed a punch hard into Mulder’s cheek. It took Mulder a second to get his mind clear and anticipate the next punch. With pure instinct Mulder calculated the next blow and he rolled into it taking his elbow and connecting with the man’s jaw. Mulder reached for his gun as the man flinched and used the butt of the gun to strike him again, this time at the temple. He struck him another time, this time the man’s lip split open and blood splattered across the grass. Pure hot adrenaline brought Mulder back to his feet and he drew his gun. “Federal Agent. Face to the ground, hands behind your back.” 

*

It only took two tries of Mulder’s phone going to voicemail for Scully to allow panic to set in. In these times of mental stress, Scully’s mind didn’t fog, but clear. The burst of clarity burned away her exhaustion and fatigue. She excused herself quickly and slid out of the hospital, informing the CMO that she was needed back at the FBI. Her heart pounded as she raced to Mulder’s location. She had called for backup, but she didn’t know if they’d respond in time. Her focus drifted in and out in the car as visions filtered through her head, forcing her to push them away. 

Minutes turned to hours as her wipers frantically moved over the neverending sheets of rain. It didn’t let up until she was within a block of Carl’s house and could see the red and blues flashing in the distance. Her breath held in her chest until she saw Mulder debriefing the detectives. 

“Did you find the little girl?” Scully panted as she jogged to join him. 

“Yes, the girl’s alive. He had her locked in a cellar built beneath that tree.”

“How did you..” but she cut herself off when she saw Mulder’s expression. The answer to that would not come easy. 

Scully followed Mulder and another officer up the ladder inside the trunk. “They’ve already swept the place,” Mulder informed her, taking up the rear. 

The inside of the tree house seemed massive. Scully estimated the area to be around 8 feet from side to side. If not for what this place represented she might take the time to be amazed at the craftsmanship of work. Carriage lamps hung from hooks along the walls. The light shining through the black and red cutouts illuminated the familiar shapes: clubs, diamonds, hearts, and spades danced over every surface. 

Off to one side was an old steamer trunk with a knitted blanket draped over it. Inside, enough costumes to play dress up in this Alice in Wonderland inspired location.

The child sized table was a whimsical creation, tree branches bent and twining together, the legs sprouting tiny leaves. Scully almost expected fairies to peak their heads out from behind the foliage. A pristine white tablecloth and a china tea set sat on top, the Mad Hatter’s chapeaux sat in place ready for the wearer to don - a tea party forever in limbo.

Scully carefully got down on both knees, coating the underside of the table with light. She followed down along each leg, stopping at the foot of the one on the far left. Comparing it to the foot on the other leg, she noticed something carefully folded underneath. She surmised it was to keep the legs even so the table didn’t rock. Removing the paper she carefully inspected it. A gum wrapper, but not just any wrapper. It was the outer package of fruit stripe gum. The same fruit stripe gum Carl had offered her in the offices and the same wrapper she had noticed where Kevin’s car had been found.

Finding nothing more, Scully straightened and Mulder led her back down the ladder to the hidden trap door at the bottom of the tree. “I’ll wait outside for you Scully,” he told her and she watched as Mulder left, knowing something down there had bothered him more than he would admit. She proceeded down the winding staircase.

What she saw at the bottom of the stairs made her draw a quick breath. In the abstract it appeared to be a child’s room, but as you focused in… Scully broke into a cold sweat. A princess canopy in white stood in stark contrast to the exam table beneath it, or the Alice pillow perched at its head. Restraints anchored to the table. Scully shuddered as it reminded her of descriptions of Mulder’s from his abduction. She didn’t want to think about the horrors visited upon the undeserving victims. An antiqued free standing cheval mirror stood to the side, but then so did an IV pole. As Scully made her way back into the open air her eyes met Mulder’s, she knew he was thinking the same thing.

*

“How many little girls did you take? How many of them are buried out in those woods?” Mulder shouted in a fit of barely contained rage, his white knuckles pounding the interrogation room table with loud vibrating clunks. 

Christopher sat silent, his bottom teeth biting at his top lip, his eyes darting back and forth. His nostrils flared with each outtake of breath. 

“All right Mulder,” Scully scolded as she entered. “He requested his lawyer be present. All questions cease.” Scully put her satchel down on the table and opened it. “While we’re waiting, would you like some coffee? Water?”

“Water would be fine. Or perhaps you have some tea?” Christopher replied. 

“Mulder, go get the man some tea.”

Mulder grimaced, but did as he was told. Scully took a seat across from Christopher. She retrieved a pack of gum from her satchel and took one out, carefully unwrapping it and placing it on her tongue. She held out the pack. “Would you like a piece?”

Christopher shook his head. “I hate that gum. Makes my jaw ache.”

Scully shrugged. “Your brother got me hooked on the flavor.”

This made Chritopher’s eyes grow wide and his brow draw inward. “You know my brother?”

Scully crossed her leg and looked out the small square window at the door. Mulder was back with what Scully imagined was Christopher’s lawyer behind him. The lawyer was carrying two cups, one he placed down in front of Christopher. 

“It’s real simple,” Mulder said, as he closed the door. “Either he cooperates and gives us the location and number of his victims or he faces the full extent of the law, which includes the death penalty.”

“The state of VA only has two people currently left on death row, it's a very unlikely sentence, but we’ll take that into advisement. For now, my client is not answering anymore of your questions until we have our pow-wow. So why don’t the two of you scurry back into your holes until we’re finished.”

“I have a question,” Scully said, removing Kevin’s photograph from one of the folders. “Have you seen this man?”

Christopher quickly shook his head, but there was something in his eyes that made Scully think he might be lying. “Did you see this man the night you were by the bridge?”

The lawyer leaned in and whispered something in his clients ear. Christopher nodded. “My client is not answering your questions until we have our meeting.”

“If he has information on this case and you’re withholding, we will add accessory to the list,” Scully said indignantly, before Mulder gave her the eye and they both left the room.

“Mulder, you were right, he knows what happened to Kevin,” Scully said when they were out of earshot.

“Did he take the gum?” he asked as he held the door open for her. She walked underneath his arm and down the hallway.

“No, but he told me his brother prefers that gum.”

“Scully, this isn't an episode of Columbo. Liking a certain type of gum is not enough to get us close to an arrest,” Mulder reminded her.

“No, but considering this is his brother, and taking into account his name is an anagram, it may be enough to get us a warrant to search the house if we speak to the right judge. You still have connections with the magistrate judge?”

Mulder nodded. “If I don’t, Skinner will.”

Scully stopped walking and Mulder turned to face her.

“You heard from Skinner?” Scully asked with delight. “He’s okay?”

“Yes, he was able to escape. He’s working with the CIA and has been assigned to a task force. He will be contacting you for a briefing.”


	9. Pretty Little Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mulder and Scully have saved the life of one little girl, but was it only Christopher or was his brother Carl involved too? What is their connection to Roche? Are they any closer to finding Kevin? Will they be coerced into making a deal with the devil?

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/164474329@N02/49778238413/in/dateposted/)

Mulder and Scully, accompanied by several law enforcement officers, proceeded inside Dr. Carl Roswell’s residence, presenting the official search and seizure warrant to his startled and completely shocked wife. Her face ashen and riddled with grief, she was ushered into the living room by one of the detectives. The remainder swept for evidence.

While the investigators rustled through drawers and ransacked the basement den, Mulder and Scully made their way into a large study. The beauty of it took Scully by surprise. The walls, painted a deep forest green, contained massive built-in dark mahogany bookcases. Intricate carvings of leafy vines, gave the austere furniture a slightly fanciful look. A large desk sat on one end of the room and on the other a child sized table and chairs made from the same deep hued wood. Even the sun’s flat rays of light streaming through the glass of the French Doors couldn’t erase the oppressive feeling of being in a dark forest with no hope of finding a way out. Scully worried at her lower lip as Mulder moved away from her. She knew his mind was overlaying his profile onto the room. Were Mulder’s demons creeping back from delving into another twisted mind? Would he return to her, William, and Maggie, or fall further into the darkness?

Mulder wandered the room, his fingers dancing over what appeared to be random objects- A book, a photo frame, a paperweight on the desk. Scully knew better to think what he did was random. All six of his senses were at play.

Deciding to make her own observations, she stepped towards the shelves lined with books. Standard Anatomy, Biochemistry, Neuroscience and many others she had used herself, along with specialized texts in Pediatrics. She stooped down and opened a lower cabinet door when Mulder called out. Standing back up, she walked over to him. 

“Look at this,” he requested. She focused on his fingers, the way they caressed the wood. It gave her a sense of serenity in the madness. “Do you see it, Scully?”

She did. There hidden among the vines and leaves was a cat. The Cheshire Cat from Alice in Wonderland. It was so well concealed it reminded Scully of Where’s Waldo. They both followed the vines, looking for other characters hidden among the carvings, but couldn’t locate one. Mulder stood surveying the room, hands on his slim hips. She could see his frustration mounting. They needed to find some evidence or the suspect could walk. Scully felt the tension rising off Mulder in waves. She knew their chance of proving guilt would be much harder if they didn’t find something now.

“Lord, no,” Scully heard Mulder mumble. “He, they, couldn’t be that sick…” Scully’s eyes tracked Mulder to the  _ children's _ bookcases. There were three of them. The middle one was slightly larger than the other two. Hidden among the matching leaves and vines were the main characters. Alice on the left, the white rabbit on the right, and in the center, controlling all, not the Queen of Hearts, but the Mad Hatter, with a teacup in one hand and teapot in the other.

Mulder pushed and knocked against the wood. Something wasn’t right about the dimensions, the thickness. There were twelve leaves on each side of the Mad Hatter. Scully moved closer until she was standing beside him, she touched his arm as he pressed the tenth and sixth leaves and heard a soft ‘snick’ sound. A hidden door within the bookcase popped open, Mulder reached in, and pulled out what looked like a first edition copy of Alice in Wonderland.

Folded within the pages of the book were pictures of children. Many Mulder did not recognize, but he knew the time period of the older black and white ones, creased and faded from time. These pictures were from World War II, Nazi Germany. Soldiers and doctors standing next to emaciated children. Mulder wondered if these were some of the orphan children the Nazis experimented on. Without parents, there was no one there to care when they went missing, no investigation when they died. Their dark hollowed eyes appeared downright ghoulish. Mulder shook off the chill up his spine, the heaviness in his chest, and looked at the other photographs. He recognized several of the others. One was of two Eves standing together like The Shining’s Grady twins. Another was a blonde drone boy. The next, a very young, Crawford twin? What was this and why would this doctor have these pictures? Keep them? There was a photograph of a girl that looked like M and Mulder’s stomach did a flip. One was... Emily? Or maybe a girl that looked like Emily? The last tightened his chest and made him break into a cold sweat. It was his sister standing next to a young Jeffrey Spender. She was possibly thirteen in the picture. “Samantha,” he mouthed.

Mulder could hear the rumbling in the next room. Dr. Carl was home and yelling at the officers, demanding his lawyer. Then Mulder heard him curse at Scully. Mulder saw red. His head buzzed as hot blood fired into his neck and adrenaline expanded his biceps. In a blink, Mulder had one hand around the man’s throat, his thumb secured at his trachea, while the other pressed the photograph into his chest. 

Mulder screamed, "Where did you get this!" His knuckles enunciating each syllable into Carl’s chest. "Where!"

Carl returned a crooked smile, his face twisting and Mulder saw the evil beneath. He hissed out through gritted teeth, "Fuck you, Muuulder.”

Mulder felt Scully’s intimately familiar pull at his arm as the officers pulled Carl away. 

“What is this Scully?” Mulder posed, as two lines formed between his brows. 

“I don’t know. They matched Carl’s fingerprints with the ones they found inside the cellar: a pair of gloves in the waste bin and on the flow clamp attached to the IV tubing.” She noticed the slight movement of Mulder’s mandible and redirected the conversation. “We’ll have time later to question him, Mulder. Carl’s wife has agreed to speak with us.” Her voice softened. “I think we should hear what she has to say.”

*

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/164474329@N02/49778247003/in/photostream/)

“Our kids played in that treehouse,” the woman started with trembling hands. “They would tell me about imaginary friends that had tea parties with them… at least I thought they were imaginary… this is like a dream… it’s.. it’s unbelievable.”

“Did your children ever mention any names? The friends they met in the treehouse?” Mulder asked. His voice held that hypnotic quality that he used to affect the atmosphere in so many interrogations over the years. 

“They may have.” Her brow wrinkled in thought. “Maybe. I’m sorry. I don’t recall... I didn’t believe them. All children tell stories.” Tears began flowing from the woman’s eyes to paint her cheeks. “We’ve been married for 15 years and we have 3 children, 2  _ daughters _ . He’s a wonderful doctor, he loves children, he only wants to heal. My husband wouldn’t be involved. I would know… I would know.” Her voice trailed off as the madness overwhelmed her.

There was a knock on the front door. Mrs. Roswell stood, her knees shaking as if they might collapse from the burden that she strapped to her back. A man strolled in, briefcase in hand, with a large booming voice. “Are you the FBI agents in charge here?” 

“Brian,” Mrs. Roswell said, a hollow acknowledgement. He took her hands in his, patting them gently. “Now you just sit right back down there, Lorina.” After getting her settled he turned to Mulder and Scully. “Now Agents, you will kindly allow me to confer with my client. There will be no further interrogation of Mrs. Roswell.”

Mulder stood with his hands on his hips. Scully could see the irritation simmering in his clenched jaw line as he raised them to cross his arms, “Let’s go Mulder.”

*

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/164474329@N02/49778780616/in/dateposted/)

“Look Mulder,” the detective started in his heavy brooklyn accent, “the lawyers aren’t going to let them speak, but I got them to agree that if Carl fesses up to what he knows about the pictures you found, we will let the judge know about his cooperation. We told him the judge may take some leniency. Now you know and I know it’s a bunch of horseshit, this dude isn’t seeing anything outside of an hour a day for exercise, but if it gets you what you want.. Just humor him, okay?” 

Mulder nodded his head in agreement, but not without an accompanying eye roll. “Just, uh, don’t knock his teeth out. We want this guy in tip top shape when we throw the book at ‘em,” the detective added with a wink and knowing grin.

The interrogation room was nothing more than four walls of gray cinder block. Mulder felt the chair they had given this asshole was too much comfort. They should have him pinned up, forced to stand, mounted with the shackles he placed around those poor little girls’ wrists. Mulder’s stomach twisted into a knot, then burned in rage picturing the smaller cuffs. Too small for his own wrists, even Scully’s. This son of a bitch was going to get what was coming to him. Death was too easy.

Mulder didn’t bother to sit, instead offering the chair to Scully. He wanted Carl to feel the weight staring down at him. Fucking madman. The pictures slapped against the formica table and slid forward like a deck of cards as Mulder tossed them. “You going to tell me where you got these?”

Carl took a breath, tilting his head sideways and slanted, like the world undoubtedly did when he entered it. A dour expression crossed his face. His hand splayed over the photographs. The perversion inside of this man, Mulder believed, didn’t want to give in even if it meant the meaningful part of his life was over. Carl’s hand hovered over the one pic, his pinky softly caressing over Samantha’s face. Mulder felt the vein in his neck quiver. 

Carl answered cockily, “A man let me play."

Mulder didn’t have time for games or idioms. What he did want was to savagely beat this man until he could never harm another living soul again. But those were simply fanciful delusions set forth by climbing back into the soul of the wretched. Now he needed to set himself back into his own world of morality. “I guess we’re done here,” Mulder said, restacking the cards, nonchalantly removing the picture from under his pinky. “I was mistakenly told you would cooperate.”

"His defective children. He sent them to me," Carl blurted out.

Mulder leaned in. Carl was on the hook. All that was left was to let it sink into his flesh and pull. "Who sent them to you?"

"I don't know his name."

Both of Mulder’s hands slapped the table so hard Carl flinched. "Who!"

"I-I, only know one name," Carl stuttered.

"Tell me!" His 100 year old grandfather could have spit it out faster, and he was dead.

Then Carl spoke of a name that knocked Mulder back so swiftly his neck jerked from the blow.

"Strughold."

And there was the connection. This man wasn’t going to tell him any more than that because they both knew that would be certain death. So, Mulder redirected. “You said ‘defective children’. What children?”

Carl looked almost puzzled. “The tests. You know about the tests, Mulder. I was recruited.”

“Because you had no parents. No one to ask questions.”

“I was lost in the system and they found me. Right from high school they recruited me to become a doctor. They noticed me. Paid attention. I was part of something. For the first time since my parents died. Helped my brother as well. They saw us. That we were special and also that we had needs that had to be satisfied. In exchange for grants for my practice, I participated in the administering of certain tests. I belonged in a subgroup of a project referred to as MK NAOMI.”

“An evolution of MK Ultra, psychological experimentation.”

“Originally targeted for GIs, replacing the bioweaponry of the Gulf war.”

Mulder knew this conversation all too well. “The warfare used that created the Gulf war syndrome, our military infected with black oil, some developing what they referred to as black cancer. I knew a man, Kritchgau, his son died of black cancer, before we knew of the cure.”

Carl rubbed his index finger along his chin, the chain attached to his cuffs rattling against the table. “Kritchgau, he worked for the DoD in accordance with the CIA. He had dealings in the next generations of MK Ultra.”

That wiped away any doubts that Mulder had. Carl had to be on the inside to know that kind of information. “Yes. So if you didn’t work with the military.. Who were you experimenting with?”

“Inmates. Those convicted of the most heinous crimes. Nobody cares what happens to them. Most want them to suffer. They became our subjects. That was when I met Roche. He was brilliant, fascinating, and we had so much in common.”

“Roche received some of your treatments.”

“Yes, but he was never able to develop any psychic abilities.”

Mulder considered the dreams him and Roche had exchanged. How he was able to creep into Mulder’s dreams. Perhaps the experiments had affected Roche. Maybe Roche never let on to the doctor that he had developed abilities. Used it to his advantage to find a way out. During the time Mulder was assigned to Roche’s case, they had formed a nexus, getting inside each other’s heads. Later, with his new found abilities, he reached out to Mulder’s mind, in dreams, the only connection left in a world that turned their backs in disgust and hate. Mulder rubbed his forehead. None of this related to the pictures he had found. “You mentioned that they gave you children? From which tests? Hybrids? Purity Control? The drone project? Super Soldiers?”

Carl just laughed. “All of them. Any of them that needed to be destroyed- completed tests, ones they’d deemed failures, children they needed to disappear, they ciphoned to me and my brother. It was a hobby of sorts and it kept our tendencies at bay. Our cravings. Such pretty, pretty little things they were - my Alice’s. I could tell you about them...”

Carl’s voice had taken on an eerie sing-song quality, maybe reliving the things he’d done to past victims, behind his unfocused and glazed eyes. 

The interrogation room door opened and an officer ducked his head in long enough to hand Scully some papers, who until then had been quietly taking notes allowing Mulder to lead the dance. Carl's eyes cleared, with a hint of superiority Mulder despised. 

Mulder stood, a move designed to intimidate in a subtle but dominant fashion. He pinned Carl with his own mutable eyes, the color of ferns in a darkened glen. “I know you saw what happened to Kevin. Who took him?”

Carl only smiled. “I’ve told you enough. Anymore and we’ll need a better deal. In writing.” 


	10. Dormant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To jog your memory, William is a chimera, he was conceived by Mulder and Scully in the episode All Things. CSM also impregnated Scully with his "Science" 😖, creating another fetus. CSM's "twin" didn't make it and William absorbed him, so William still has some of that DNA attached to his own. Whatever.
> 
> So the alien where CSM got the DNA from thinks William is his and CSM thinks William is his, but William, like Mulder, is his own man and will decide his own path. The Bounty Hunter hanging around deserted the aliens to follow CSM.
> 
> Mulder and Scully finally find Kevin and also are able to get some well deserved alone time. And I think I see a baby Maggie sighting.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/164474329@N02/49810216077/in/dateposted/)

Myanmar

The alien spaceship hovered ten feet above the landing strip on the carrier. Its size took up a considerable amount of room, but when it landed, it was as silent as a leaf drifting onto dewy grass.

“I’ve told you before William, you are one of us. This… is your ship. You know that.” The alien turned to look at the Smoking Man. “It’s time he paid for his insolence.”

William set his fingers aside his temples, staring down CSM, tuning to his neurological transmitters, slowly increasing the frequency. Old CGB didn’t even flinch. After all, he had watched presidents die, leaders and nations rise and fall, wars won and lost, most at his own hand. A barrel of a gun was not anything he feared, especially when he had created it. The pain of William’s projections was only slightly worse than the brain disease CSM had experienced years ago. 

The Bounty Hunter watched as the black oil secreted from CSM’s cells, Andromeda was its name, an ameba, moving like an inchworm, from the Smoking Man to William. 

“What are you doing?” the alien asked.

“I am immune to your virus. Andromeda will lie dormant in my system. It has been inside my mother. You don’t get to know my mother’s secrets.”

“Listen to your father, William,” the alien reminded him. He pointed to CSM. “KILL HIM!!”

“I only have one true father,” William returned, knowing more than the alien could about his origins. He brought his right hand to his forehead again and closed his eyes. “Board the ship!” he commanded the Smoking Man. CSM turned and ran.

William focused on the alien, felt him struggling under his control, but there was no remorse. Everyone only thought they knew him, who he was, where he came from. “I am my mother’s son,” he said indignantly as a bright light ignitied from the alien’s center, exploding in pure white, the intense radiation having ill effect on William’s skin. 

He looked over at the Bounty Hunter. “Are you coming with us?”

The Bounty Hunter nodded and headed towards the ship. William tilted his head back with closed eyes. He breathed in and the black oil left the bodies it had inhabited, all making their way, absorbing themselves into William’s ship.

Washington D.C.

There was an alley between an old abandoned family drug store and the new funky furniture store. That was where Gibson told Mulder to meet him. It was used mostly by delivery trucks so there was little traffic. Actually, there wasn’t much traffic anywhere with the military and police putting an end to people roaming the streets. The only ones out appeared to be workers.

Mulder stretched as he waited. His back finally loosening up, he no longer ached from his struggle with Christopher Roswell. When Gibson finally arrived, he was wearing a backpack and a smile that slowly faded once Mulder filled him in on the connection Strughold possibly had to a serial killer. 

“Mulder, I can read his mind. With all he’s done - the money, power, the trust he’s placed in me and my school for the gifted, the dormitories. You’re saying it is what? A ruse? Smokescreen?”

“A cover-up,” Mulder finished, but Gibson looked doubtful. “You can read Strughold’s thoughts, but what if he can control his thought process? Maybe he is more skilled than you think. He is over a century old.”

“I have access, Mulder. You think I’m wrong? Go look through his files for yourself.” Gibson lost his breath, as though the conversation had taken all his energy.

“You feeling okay Gibson?”

“I’m okay, I’m not sick, just weak. I’ll feel better when Scully and Jeffrey stop using me like a pin cushion. They’re both desperate to develop a vaccine, but they can’t seem to isolate what part of my DNA is making me immune.”

“Scully is convinced that Kevin could hold the key to determining that answer.” Just then, Mulder had a thought. “How would you feel if we just came out and asked Strughold? Reading his mind, you might be able to get some information out of him. Even if he is oblivious to this, maybe there’s something buried in his memory that not even he is aware.” 

Farrs Corner, VA

Stepping out onto the porch, Scully held the door open for Maggie, balancing the steaming teapot as she did. Maggie ran with her hard bottomed shoes slapping against the wood towards the swing her daddy had built for them while Scully poured the herbal tea from her grandmother’s old Brown Betty into Molly’s mug. “The tea mixed with the ginger and honey should help with the morning sickness. The crackers too. Have you been taking your prenatal vitamins?” Scully prodded.

Molly assured her she was, watching Maggie chase her ball behind the swing, but when Scully said the word ‘crackers’, the ball was quickly forgotten. Dropping it, the ball hit her shoe, bouncing and rolling back under the swing. Maggie popped her head around the arm. “Cracker, mama?”

Scully smiled and Molly held out a cracker. Maggie, who seemed to love the sound of her newest pair of shoes, walked over and took the cracker. She wandered over to the porch railing and nibbled on her snack contentedly.

Molly lifted her mug and hovered it by her lips breathing in the ginger scent, settling her stomach. She took a tentative sip. “Does Mulder know I’m pregnant?”

Scully ran her hands over the arm of the chair. “He was barely conscious when I told him. I don’t think it ever registered. If he did he probably thought it was a dream. Do you want him to know before William does? Would you like to tell him together?”

“What if William already knows?” Molly asked. “What if it came to him in a vision and I don’t even get to share that with him? What if something happens?”

“Molly, William is fine. I would know if something was wrong with my son. You would know.”

“Can we tell Mulder together?” Molly asked with hopeful eyes.

“Yes. Of course. Molly, he’s going to be so happy.” 

Maggie had finished her cracker and was grunting as she tried to climb onto the swing. Scully and Molly laughed at her attempts. Scully stood and lifted her daughter up on the swing before sitting down beside her and gently set them swaying.

Scully’s phone went off and she smiled. “Speak of the devil.” “Hey, Mulder.”

“Scully, I’m on my way. I need a favor and what I need it for, no one else can do better.”

“Mulderrr,” Scully purred out a warning, her cheek heating against the receiver. She glanced over at Molly who was petting Queequeg II and sipping her tea.

She heard Mulder’s hearty laugh of embarrassment. “That too, but we’ll have to take a raincheck.”

Maggie hearing her father’s voice, giggled and motioned for Scully to give her the phone. “Dada? Mama.”

“Just a second. Mulder, someone wants to say hello.” Scully held the phone to Maggie’s ear. “Hi, Dada!” she exclaimed and clapped her hands with happiness.

“Hi, M. How’s daddy’s girl?” Scully caught Molly’s eyes and they both smiled softly as Maggie held a conversation with her daddy. It was only a few moments until they heard her making kissing noises and saying, “Love you, Dada. Bye-bye.”

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/164474329@N02/49809366033/in/dateposted/)

Undisclosed location, VA

“Mulder, I have nothing to say to this man. Why do you want me to question him?”

“Because I think you have plenty to say and you have a certain track record for speaking your mind.” Mulder’s voice slipped into monotone as he kept his eyes on the road, “Is it wrong that that turns me on?”

“An awkwardly bent tree root turns you on Mulder,” Scully snapped back.

“Only if it’s shaped like you.”

“Oh, brother,” Scully replied, rolling her eyes, but with a hint of a smile.

They stepped into Strughold’s office and Mulder immediately took control of the room. “You’ve done some redecorating.” 

Scully understood by his tone, he was letting her know Strughold was already purging. Crossing her arms, she wasted no time speaking her mind. “We’ve got two of your clean-up men in custody. They’ve already confessed on video and in writing so too late to kill them. So, why don’t you tell us…”

“About the experiments? What could I possibly tell you that you don’t already believe you know..”

“I want to know why you get off torturing children?” Scully shot back coldly.

Strughold scoffed. “They were not children, they were experiments.” He lifted his eyebrow, “You want to believe they were more because you refuse to accept the truth.” 

“What truth?”

“That your offspring aren’t your children, they’re ours. Byproducts of our experiments.” 

Scully ran her tongue over her top lip. “And Kevin, is he a byproduct too?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I know nothing of any Kevin.”

Scully took a step closer to him and raised the tone of her voice. “Was it a spy drone? Planted nurse or doctor that sent you a copy of a test I did? Bugging my home to get your jollies? Is that how you discovered Kevin? The part of Gibson’s DNA we can use for the cure, Kevin has it transcribed into his own, doesn’t he? You want to use it for yourself, save your own ass and whoever you choose. Old white men playing god. Some things never change.”

Gibson glanced at Mulder and Mulder chewed at his cheek. “All right Scully. We’re not going to get any answers here.”

Scully took another step and pointed at Strughold for emphasis. “If anything happens to my children, if I hear you even breath in their direction, NOT EVEN HELL WILL SAVE YOUR ASS!!”

Scully felt her blood pressure boiling at the top of her skull, only simmering at Mulder’s soft tug. She turned and left the old man. The tremor in her frontal lobe let her know this would not be their final meeting. Once back in the car, she turned to Gibson. “And?”

Gibson was mumbling, repeating something over and over. Mulder reached into the console and handed him a napkin and a pen. Gibson scribbled. “Strughold’s mind flashed on a sheet of paper,” Gibson explained. “It was full of numbers, but there was an address on the letterhead - 2778 Southeast Highway. Kevin’s there. I know it.”

Mulder typed the address into a Google search. “There’s a Merck manufacturing facility in Elkton, Virginia that has that address,” Mulder said, punching it into the GPS while Scully drove. Mulder continued searching and reading. “Get this Scully, the facility was purchased years ago. The previous owners - Roush.”

Scully’s phone rang and she hit the receiver button on the steering wheel. “Scully, you’re on speaker.”

“Dana, it’s Skinner.”

“I’ve got Mulder and Gibson in the car with me,” she said almost as a warning.

“I’m going to need you to do an autopsy. In fact, you’re the only one that can do it because of your immunities.”

“What is it Skinner?”

“The Roswell brothers. They were found in their cells, dead. We believe from the virus, but we can’t be sure until you test them and we don’t know the exposure time.”

“It will be a while, Skinner. We’re following a lead.”

Skinner cleared his throat. “Scully, there’s more. There was a fire.”

“The videos, the affidavits.. Did they upload it to the server?” Mulder asked.

“It’s all gone,” Skinner replied.

“Dammit!” Mulder punched the dash.

Scully shook her head. “It doesn’t matter now. All that matters is finding Kevin.” She ended the call and the GPS came on to alert her of a turn in .4 miles. Finding a parking spot, they headed on foot. 

“So, what’s the plan Mulder? Go up to the guard shack and ask for a tour? Our badges aren’t going to get us inside. Mulder?” Scully looked over and Mulder was already on the phone. 

“So you’ll hack into the system?... Yes, I understand that, but it can be done... You’re cooperating with a federal agent... Yes, it’s technically illegal, but.. Scully is the assistant director of the FBI, she’s not going to let you… Hold on.” Mulder handed her the phone. “It’s William’s friend, Dylan. Please tell him he will not be convicted if he hacks into the pharmaceutical computer.”

Scully looked sternly at Mulder, but took the phone. She was desperate to locate Kevin so she agreed she would use her powers to protect him. As soon as she got off the phone she asked Mulder, “What are we doing here?”

“I just want to walk the perimeter,” Mulder said, so they went. No one approached them as they walked the fence line. No one noticed. They went deep along the property line, into the woods to a boneyard, piled high with old equipment. A couple storage buildings came into view with more old equipment. Gibson stopped. “I hear him. Kevin is here.”

“In one of those buildings?” Scully asked.

“No, he’s in the woods.” They turned and walked some more, following Gibson until another, much larger building appeared beyond the trees obscured by the surrounding hills. 

“It’s an old Roush building. This must still be part of the property. Mulder drew his gun and Scully served as back-up, but there was no way in. So they waited. 

Hours later Scully heard the push of the door, a gunshot, and a man slumped as the bullet pierced his skull, propping the door open. Shocked, she stiffened. Mulder had shot him. She felt suddenly faint, but was able to shake it off. Kevin. They stepped over the body, Gibson close behind Scully, mimicking her steps. Another man, dressed in white. Mulder painted him and the walls in red with the release of more bullets. Scully couldn’t speak, didn’t even draw a breath, just kept her back to Mulder, arm outstretched with her finger ready to squeeze the trigger. She took out one more hiding behind an office door, before they found Kevin, weak, but still alive. Mulder slung him over his shoulder, and they headed back out. It was a long way back, now having to use the trees to go undetected. Gibson and Mulder both taking turns carrying Kevin. 

The last few yards back to the car were the hardest, Mulder’s phone vibrating his ass as he walked. There were no delicacies when Mulder dumped Kevin into the car, Gibson folding up Kevin’s legs so he could squeeze himself inside. Mulder answered the phone as Scully started the car. Scully listened intently. “Dylan, what did you find?” Mulder asked.

“Pops, I’m on the job, call me Override.”

Pops? Scully mouthed and Mulder squinted at her, his lips pursing. She only laughed and shook her head. 

“Were you able to get in?” Mulder asked Dylan.

“Hell yeah. Under a folder named Roush, you believe they made it that easy? Big pharma, SMH, thinking they can’t be penetrated. Well, I backdoored ‘em without the vaseline.”

“Dy-Override, reel it in, bring it home.”

“I’ve got a doc, nothing but soshes. Nine digit numbers. NBD for HR, but this was coded under file: Merchandise. Next to each of these numbers is a set of dots, like morse code, thick and thin, maybe a zero/one? Could be binary code, I’m going to run a few progs to see if I can crack it.”

“Can you get me a hard copy?” Mulder asked hopefully.

“Hard copy? Um, man, I don’t have a printer. I’ll take some screenshots of each page and email them to you.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. Thanks, Override.”

“No prob Pops. TTYL.”

International Airspace

Into a tight roll and then banking a hard right the spaceship navigated its course. “I know I’m flexing right now, but this shit is fire!” William shouted to CSM and laughed, knowing Mulder would get such a kick out of it. “Where we headed?”

“First, you need to get hold of your true capabilities. Display your allegiance.” CSM picked up his cell and waited at the request of the man at the other end. “Have they gathered?” 

“Yes. The United Nations meeting is still in progress. Shall I patch you through now?”

“Go ahead.”

“This is the President over the General Assembly. I’ve updated the leaders. Proceed,” commanded the voice on the other end. 

“Has the vote been cast?” CSM inquired.

“Yes. It is the majority. Those in the Dyson Sphere have been convicted of committing 195 acts of treason. Each country has signed off.”

“Excellent. We will now demonstrate our new power as one world government.” CSM looked at William and spoke directly to him. “Now is the time. The world is waiting to feel your power. My creation.”

William ran both hands through his hair, then let those same hands dredge back, pausing at his temples. Awakening the black oil, he focused and fired.

Farrs Corner, VA

With Kevin recovering in the hospital from his abduction, Mulder made his way down the stairs, having finally settled Maggie down long enough for her to fall asleep, her dog curled at her feet. His shirtless chest gave Scully a reminder that they had been so caught up with life, they hadn’t stopped for the important things. Hadn’t celebrated her birthday or Molly’s pregnancy. Or Mulder’s 58 year old abs that didn’t look a day over 25. 

When he reached the bottom step he paused. “What?” he laughed, with a nervous jitter. 

“Come here and let me examine your injuries.” Scully said it with the raspy little note in her voice, along with the move of her eyebrow and tilt of her hips that she knew sent blood rushing to the area behind his zipper. 

Scully carefully touched his waist. The same spot where Chrisopher Roswell had punched him when they had wrestled on the ground. Mulder flinched as she examined it. “Scully, easy. It’s just a bruise.”

“I want to make certain there is no internal bleeding.” She felt him shiver as she rubbed her palm against his stomach. Her warm hand moved upwards until it rested on his chest.

“Your heart is racing, Mulder.”

He stood silently, meeting her gaze, and as with every time, she was struck by his penetrating eyes, the way they devoured her. She stepped closer and his fingers wriggled up her shirt and beneath her bra, catching her nipple between them and gently pinching and pulling, toying as a gasp escaped her lips. 

Part of her knew she should resist him, they needed to be working, she needed to be stronger than the lust she felt. Her body disagreed as her hips brushed against the huge mound of denim created by his straining cock. Her insides pulsed and gushed, spiking pleasure into her abdomen. 

It caused her eyes to flutter closed and his hands explored the top half of her body.  With expert precision that comes with twenty years of knowledge,  Mulder opened her jeans and slipped his hand inside, rubbing the fabric of her panties, covering the swollen mound of flesh.

“Scully,” he whispered in a groan, acknowledging how wet she was, showing off his cocky grin. She knew that look. He knew he had caught her at a weak moment.

Mulder pulled her jeans to her ankles, dragging her panties along with them. Scully stepped out of them. Another look into his eyes, a brush of his hand over her well-trimmed mound and Scully was breathing hard, aching with want. Her clit felt engorged, in need of his attention. In need of release. 

Both Mulder’s hands dipped between her legs to softly spread both her lips apart. His jaw went slack and the look on his face was focused and full of longing. 

“You… that, it’s beautiful,” he said and ran his fingers across the slippery folds of skin. “Pink and perfect.” 

Scully closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of Mulder’s touch. His finger dipped inside her and her body went limp to his magic.  Mulder, the dark wizard with his huge cock and electric fingers of sorcery.  They felt so good moving inside her and when he added a second she started to melt.

Mulder released a quiet laugh and dipped to his knees, kissing the smooth skin above her clit. Never quite touching that sensitive spot, just around it. Toying with her. Driving her crazy. 

Mulder was sliding his fingers harder now, making her wetter, making her needy. It felt amazing, but when he started to fan out his fingers, that’s when the true pleasure began. His fingers moved inside of her, stretching, hooking, massaging. Creating different sensations with every move.

It made her feel charged, explosive. She was dangling over an edge when a sudden feeling enveloped her. She’s going to come. Hard. Her eyes sprung open and she met Mulder’s. He was watching her, and he knew she was on the verge and his smirk had victory written all over it.

But the smile faded as passion filled his eyes. With his fingers still inside her he rose and softly, tenderly, gave her a sweet romantic kiss. Scully’s whole body came alive and his finger hooked, rubbing inside her as his tongue swept along her and she began to pulse around him. A severe, high pitched moan lept from her mouth to his, fading into a low groan as it made its way down his throat. She was coming, pulsing and dripping around his fingers. 

Mulder broke their kiss and stared at her with feverous intent, going to work taking off her sweater, shirt, but leaving her bra. Then he stopped. 

It was oddly sweet the way he looked at her, touching her cheek and kissing her gently on the face, everywhere but her lips. 

He touched the silky fabric of her bra, his hands as large as her cup size. The entire time he touched her, he watched her face until she started to feel those deep emotions. The ones that only he could pull out. The ones buried so deep she often forgot they existed until he reminded her with that one simple look. His fingers moved up, now caressing the swell of her breasts. He leaned down and kissed the top of each one, only to kiss his way back up her neck. Scully wanted fast and furious, but she knew she would have to wait. 

Running her fingers through his thick dark hair, she touched the scruff of his jaw. He lifted his head enough to kiss her lips again. She could feel the hardness of his cock digging into her through his jeans and she gave it a knowledgeable squeeze. This time when they kissed there was an urgency there. When she opened her mouth to taste him, he greedily took her tongue and sucked it into his mouth, holding it captive for several seconds before letting go. Mulder wasn’t playing fair, he was sucking her tongue, but he might as well have been sucking her clit. She slid her tongue hard between his lips and kissed him deeply.

He squeezed her breasts in response and she moaned. Taking her bottom lip between his teeth he gently bit it as he rocked against her. Scully was caught between the intensity of their kiss and the feel of his thumb brushing against her nipple through the thin fabric of her bra.

He never touched the skin, but the feeling was so intense her nipple hardened.

“I feel your body calling mine,” he told her.

Before she could rebut, he was kissing her again. His mouth left her lips for her chin, then her neck, down to the swell of her breasts, squeezing them together, so he could jut his tongue in the crevice.

“I want you desperately, Scully,” he said into her chest. “I want to kiss every inch of you, throw you on this desk and fucking make love to you all at the same time.”

Scully reached behind her and unsnapped her bra while she spoke. “You’re not going to be able to do much with your pants on.”

In a rushed minute, Mulder stripped off his clothes, with a goofy smile, delighting in her approval to continue. As his thumbs hooked under his waistband and pulled the last item of clothing off, he watched her intently as her eyes opened wide, never disappointed at the look of his steel-hard cock standing thick and proud, reaching his belly button. Scully’s insides flexed instinctually, as if her body was already warming to accommodate all of him. Mulder was never more beautiful and her heart never felt more.

“I need to make you feel good, Scully. I need to make you happy.”

She searched his eyes, then grabbed the sides of his face. “Then kiss me.”

He did and it was a messy, wonderful, frenzy of a kiss. He pushed her onto the desk, slamming her back against his day planner, sending papers flying, pens and holders crashing to the floor, climbing on top of her, forcing her knees apart and sinking his hand between her legs. His fingers flirted with her clit, slipping along her lips from her wetness, the little hair she had there soaked with her need.

He kissed her with every bit of love he had, making her half out of her mind with want. As they kissed, he was still playing with the delicate spot right above her clit, rubbing in circles and it was causing her ass to raise off the table and her breath to quicken. 

He broke their kiss, his cock digging so deeply into her thigh she could feel the vessels on the shaft pulsing. She reached down to touch him and he pulled away and slid down between her thighs. “I want more for you than that.”

His hands started at her knees, teasing, tickling and her heart hammered in her chest as her body surged. He was massaging her outer lips and she already felt herself ready to come undone. Her hips came off the desk again when his entire mouth covered her, diving in, plunging his tongue and she felt the pressure in her core, a wonderful buildup as he drank his fill and went back for more.

His tongue wasn’t just reaching inside her, it was not just sliding deep within and out of her, he was sending his devotion, his fears, his nurture, his love.  A cry of ecstasy burst from somewhere deep inside. She opened her eyes and looked down. The sight of him between her legs, _ him _ , it made her cry again. 

Mulder lifted himself, bringing her legs with him, a hand at each ankle practically folding her in half as his cock thrusted swiftly inside. “Mulder!” she screamed and she felt his cock throb inside her at his name. He started pounding in a frenzy, and the sensations roared through her body like a train. The pressure returned and she was going to come. She contracted harder and tighter around him and his speed became lightning. The world expanded and came to life. All her muscles went rigid and she bucked off the desk, her hips slamming up, feeling him drive deeper and she came apart, flashing lights racing across her vision.

“Mulder, yes!” 

He didn’t stop, kept going, drawing out another incredible orgasm. Her body trembled and twitched as she felt his doing the same and then she felt him pumping into her, clutching the edge of the desk tight, as he pushed as far as he could get and held. “God, Scully. Damn.” He withdrew slightly and then pushed in a final time, pressing his dampened forehead to hers he spoke in even tones. “I love you.”

Scully lazily drew a finger over his rounded tight ass, tracing the lines to his lower back and up his shoulder. He kissed her gently, and they savored the moment, his nose grazing hers with a tender look in his eyes.  Her heart was so full she almost came again clenching what was left of his hard-on. “We need to remember to make more time for us, Mulder,” she said, her voice slightly hoarse.

“We will,” he confirmed, brushing the hair from her eyes. “Uh, the dog has come down to investigate.”

Scully laughed to see Queequeg II up on his hind legs sniffing the desk. She held out her hand to pet him. “Mulder, what are you doing?”

Mulder tentatively scoured the desk. “I’m looking for the best way to get down that will cause the least amount of injury.”

*

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/164474329@N02/49809959146/in/dateposted/)

Thirty minutes later the printer chugged along like an old steam train. Scully walked over to Mulder’s desk where he stood hovering over the printer, analyzing each page as it leaped from the rollers. “Can I give it a shot... Pops?” Scully joked.

Mulder looked at Scully over the top of his black rimmed reading glasses. “That’s Big Daddy to you.”

Scully scoffed, ripping the page from his hand where he held it. Dylan was right, it looked like Morse code, but each pattern was different next to each social security number, followed by an alphanumeric entry. Scully had seen this before. It was a location identifier. When she was investigating the smallpox inoculations, she remembered seeing entries like this, Jeremiah Smith had been involved, information kept on every man, woman, and child by the social security administration. But this was a private company, keeping their tagging information like they were cattle. “Mulder, these numbers, they are social security numbers, but next to each number is their tag, their protein marker, from their smallpox inoculation. I’m certain of it.”

“And you think Roush was keeping these lists of people and their tags… possibly contracted by the government..”

“These titles must be the codes used for each test and beneath them the people that received them,” Scully surmised.

“But that doesn’t explain this.” He handed her a set of three pages.

“Mulder, these brackets look like a family tree.”

“You think these are offspring?”

Scully stared up at him, reading his expression. “You’ve looked it up already.”

“My sister’s social security number is on here.”

“You think the cloned Samantha might have been telling the truth? That your niece and nephew might actually be the real Samantha’s children? You think they harvested a fourteen year old’s ova?”

“There’s one way to find out,” Mulder said. 

Outside, the sky screamed and the house shook, followed with a loud boom as something hit the Earth. Scully reached for Maggie and the three of them raced out the door.

Mulder buried the printout in his pocket. Scully’s social security was on that page as well, and the brackets were full. 

At the next rattle of the earth and flash in the sky, Mulder reached for Scully’s hand, his other palming M’s head as she held tightly to his leg. They looked up at the heavens to watch the streams and stars explode under the cerulean sky. “Mulder what are those? Are they comets?”

“No. I think. I think that’s our son.” 

Scully took a sharp breath inward and held it. Metal rained down from the sky with tails of fire. Mulder felt M shiver and cling tighter to his leg. His little girl's eyes reflected the sparkling image of the space stations and ships exploding into dust. Scully’s mind tunneled and projected. It was William. He was destroying the Dyson sphere, dismantling their planes as they flew in the sky, sending thousands to their death. Their voices crying out, only to be replaced in echoing silence.


	11. Sinister Skies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skinner, Monica, and Doggett are investigating a chemical plant to confiscate some samples of chemicals they are producing. 
> 
> Override, one of William's friends he met while at Gibson's School for the Extraordinarily Gifted, is helping Mulder break the last of the Syndicate's digital systems.
> 
> Scully, trying to save the world using her own blood, is running on empty. Now, with Kevin, she hopes to isolate Gibson's DNA that enables him to have immunity and share that immunity with the world. 
> 
> William joins The Smoking Man to the first round of the New World Order of the Syndicate
> 
> If you haven't read Rooted in Friendship, Samantha, is a clone of the real Samantha and married one of the Crawford twins(the hybrids made from Scully's and other abductee's eggs) and they had two kids, a girl and a boy. So would that make them Mulder's niece and nephew once removed? Lol. Idk. Anyway, she's been hanging out with them and has been to Maggie's 1st birthday party and all that. Mulder has been indifferent to all of it, but hasn't exactly pushed her away either.

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/164474329@N02/49838830591/in/dateposted/)

Kanawha River, Virginia

A frustrated Skinner rasped into his cell, “Mulder, what am I searching for? Are you confident in these coordinates?” 

Monica and Doggett had joined Skinner and agreed to use their credentials to investigate. He was at the address Mulder had found after enlarging some pictures of the two Roswell brothers seized at the doctor’s house. Skinner recognized the address and confirmed it after a quick perusal of the FBI database. It was the rumored location that Monsanto used to develop Agent Orange during the Vietnam war. Now owned by Bayer, these locations reportedly had been shut down. Monsanto had a history Bayer was undoubtedly trying to make the public forget. Monsanto, renowned for their production of GMOs, wasn’t a reputation Bayer would want tied to their name. They were in the process of changing Monsanto’s name, much like DuPont did to hide their production of teflon, when the virus hit. Bayer had also acquired Merck earlier in the year, once again linking the chain of events all back to the virus, with J&J, Bayer’s only true adversary in the pharma business, working heavily with Jeffrey Spender to get Scully’s vaccine produced and marketed. 

The connections, the paper trail, made Skinner’s head spin. Something so obvious, happening within the light of day, could it be? It was the year 2020 and yet it was as though WWII had never ended. It was enough to believe the fake news of Bill Gates being in bed with China, helping to fund, along with Strughold, the microchipping of the populous. Was it fake? He put it in the back of his mind to ask Mulder. Little did the people know, they had been chipped long ago with a smallpox vaccine. Skinner rubbed his own scar. Who knows what they had loaded into all the shots he had received during Vietnam. What experiments he was exposed to.

“Mulder, are you listening to me?” Skinner asked, realizing that Mulder had not yet answered him.

“Yeah,” Mulder finally said. “Start the van. Monica and Doggett are on their way back to you. Monica grabbed the sample while Doggett distracted the management. Kevin’s been discharged from the hospital. We’re on our way to take him to the lab so Scully can run her tests. Scully will meet you there.” 

In route to Quantico Labs

“Kevin, are you feeling any better?” Scully asked, in the back of her mind she was already prepping for the list of lab work she was planning on running.

Kevin was in the process of ending a call with his husband. He had Facetimed him and his kids, letting them know how much he loved them and would be on his way home soon. As he closed his phone he said to Scully, “All I feel is hungry right now. How about we stop at a Chick-Fil-A? I’m in the mood for God’s chicken.”

Scully turned into the drive and after taking everyone’s order, conveyed it to the woman at the other end of the speaker. 

“You want waffle fries too Kevin?” Scully asked, turning her head to look at him. There was a quick flash, her mind slowed, her ears rang, blinded momentarily by a wetness in her eye, a loud bang, and shattered glass. The telling scent of gunpowder filled her nostrils. She wiped her eyes with her hands as the cashier screamed out of the drive-thru speaker. Scully saw a man in a black hooded sweatshirt, sunglasses, and hat climb into the back of a late model 90’s Jag as it rolled out. She looked to the back seat of the car to see Kevin, dead, his brain matter staining her leather upholstery. 

“Scully! Scullaay!” She heard Mulder cry when the ringing stopped. “Scully are you okay? Were you hit?” She looked down. Bit’s of Kevin’s flesh and skull covered her shirt, her face, in her hair. “I-I wasn’t hit. The bullet must have missed me.”

She heard Mulder’s door close and felt him pushing her into the passenger seat. He took off after the Jaguar, but they were gone.

“Mulder, how?” Scully said, looking at her hands, wiping Kevin’s hair from her fingers onto her black slacks.

“They must have tracked his phone when he made the call.” Mulder glanced Scully’s way and then back at the road. “What now? Kevin’s not going to be hosting a Ted Talk any time soon.”

“His DNA will be enough to give us what we need. It will contain the road map so we can isolate the DNA molecule in Gibson’s DNA and create the vaccine,” Scully replied, her hands beginning to shake as she felt her body begin to go into shock. “I was supposed to be his protector.”

“Scully, I know you believe that to be true, but what if, you were only meant to protect him enough for him to save the world?”

Scully leaned her forehead against the cold glass of the car door feeling suddenly weak. Her body was shutting down. Her eyelids closed and the world faded to black.

When she regained consciousness, the first thing she felt was the prick of the IV cannula piercing the skin of her left hand, driving into her vein. The next was the squeeze of her right hand by Mulder’s. Her head rotated right to see Mulder’s worried eyes. “Scully,” he let out in a breath of relief. “You scared the shit out of me.”

Scully furrowed her brow, her eyes bulged in fear, “Do… I… know you?”

“Wha..” Mulder said as his jaw dropped, turning as white as the hospital sheets, before the lines on his face reversed. “Dammit Scully.”

She nodded in confidence. “I had you big time.”

“You did not… maybe a little,” he relented, sitting on the edge of the bed and applying a kiss to her forehead. 

The doctor walked in and Mulder spoke to him in hushed tones in the corner of the room. They both glanced over at Scully. She was more than curious as to why the doctor wasn’t discussing it with her first. Another doctor entered and approached her. “Ms. Scully, I’m surprised you’re conscious. Your hemoglobin levels are down around 5.8 grams per deciliter. How you’re functioning may be a miracle. You were brought in severely dehydrated and you are in dire need of a transfusion.”

“No,” Scully said. “I’ll recover on my own. I’ll sign whatever I need to in order to get released.” 

Mulder returned to her side. “I know I’m wasting my breath, but I don’t want you to leave the hospital. The doctors are telling me that you may be past the point of recovery on your own.”

“Mulder, you know me.” Scully glanced over at the doctors. “You know that I can recover.”

She could see she wasn’t convincing him, but she also didn’t have time. Hastily, she removed the needle and stood. The room spun and buzzed, she broke out in a sweat and felt instantly nauseated, but she kept walking to the bathroom to get dressed and check-out. 

2 hours later.. 

“The lab results are definitive,” Scully said, her hair pulled back and labcoat on. Mulder had gotten her some food and she already could feel her energy returning. She knew by his eyes, Mulder had his concerns, but she had no time to be resting. Scully pointed to the results of Skinner’s samples as they displayed on the projector, debriefing Mulder, Doggett, and Monica on her findings. “Genetically modified food, pesticides, everything I’ve tested all contain Purity Control. Through the years it seems they’ve developed a synthetic agent to create an amalgam with purity control enabling the body to absorb it better.”

“Purity Control. Doesn’t that make people psychotic?” Monica asked.

“All the evidence that Mulder and I have witnessed over the years lead us to believe it would create great instability in the brain of a human. Unless, they’ve been able to alter our DNA to accommodate.”

“Or else we’ll all be headed for the loony bin,” Doggett added. “They’re spraying that crap everywhere. Tryin’ to say they’re disinfecting the air of the virus. And these nuts out there are believin’ em.”

“This is what happened to Kitten,” Skinner said blankly. “God, help us.”

Monica exchanged knowing looks with Doggett. “There’s something else we found while we were in there. Someone we saw in one of the offices. He didn’t see us, but it was definitely him. His name was on the door as site manager.

“Who, Monica?” Scully asked with a tremble in her voice.

“It was Kersh,” Monica answered. “They have placed him as head of all manufacturing and distribution.”

One hour later...

“What are you not saying, Scully?” Mulder asked as they made their way back into the car.

“I know how they were able to alter our DNA, make us susceptible to the virus.”

“What is it?”

“What has changed 98% of all human DNA on the planet?”

“5G?” Mulder asked, his raised brows creasing his forehead.

“No,  Perfluorooctanoic acid, otherwise known as C8. The teflon in cookware created by DuPont. It altered our DNA.”

“And the wastewater from it, dumped into our rivers and streams,” Mulder said, continuing her thought.

“Transported in bottles of drinking water around the globe,” Scully continued.

“Combined with water sources through our own waste,” Mulder said. “Showing up in the DNA of our own offspring.”

“Until every human on the planet has it as part of their genetic code,” Scully concluded, “And with the release of the virus, 98% of the world is susceptible, allowing the Spartan virus to decimate our immune systems.”

“Leaving us vulnerable to any disease out there.” Mulder said.

Scully scratched at her hairline. Was that adding up? “Wait, Mulder. I’ve got to be wrong. Teflon was distributed in 1954, created in 1938. That can’t be it.”

“Yes, but Teflon is the predecessor to GenX,” Mulder reminded her. “That began production in 2009.”

“Making it widespread by 2012,” Scully finished.

“Will there be enough time to mass produce the vaccine?” Mulder asked.

“There has to be,” Scully answered him. “I’m going to call Jeffrey. Gibson can meet me at J&J so we can isolate his DNA molecules, synthesize. and start trials immediately.”

“Did you complete the autopsy on the Roswell brothers?” Mulder asked.

“Yes,” Scully said, almost forgetting about those findings. “They died from a  mutated strain of the Variola Virus . I also found traces of bee stings. The Smoking Man is coming at us full force.”

“Would you tell me if you were sick?” Mulder asked suddenly.

Scully raised her eyebrows tilting her chin and tightening her jaw. “Yes Mulder, of course. I’ll get some rest tonight. My counts have already risen. I’m immortal, remember?”

Mulder gently cupped her cheek and stroked it with his thumb. Her chin trembled at his touch. Her eyes dared to meet with his. He spoke into her eyes, “Even immortals have their limits.”

*

In an office building, down a deserted street in NYC, William sat in a tufted red leather chair. Out the window he could see Times Square all lit up, without a sole in sight. A buck and two does nibbled on low hanging leaves of a tree surrounded by pavement. Where were the people? Were they all dead? Sick? Or in hiding? Cowering in their homes while the new world order took their places on their thrones. Could they use herd immunity to keep themselves alive? Could his mother find the answers in time?

William’s skin crawled as CSM touched his arm. He flinched in response. CSM addressed the men seated around them. “This is our weapon. As promised. The black oil bows to him. The ships heed to his command. My boy does not get sick. There is no bacteria that harms him. He is not affected by chemicals, radiation, or firearms of any magnitude.”

“What about magnetite?” One of the elders piped in.

CSM laughed, lighting a cigarette with the one he puffed in his mouth, then snuffing the old one in the ashtray, it’s lingering smoke rising like a hypnotized snake.  “My son, Jeffrey, believing incorrectly that he was working against me, cured him of that as a baby. Like a sheep, he followed the false intel I fed him.”

“So, how will he save my family? They are getting sick,” another elder demanded.

“In William’s blood, is the cure to all ailments,” CSM explained, taking another long drag. “You’re thinking with a simple mind. Armed with his ship, William can create life or extinction. William has no enemies, only prey. He is a god, and I am his god.”

One of the youngest elders that was leaning against the gold leaf chair rail piped up with his hands at his hips. “And what about Scully? You said she is a bridge. Without her, how do you keep your weapon under control?”

CSM only smirked. “Scully will come to see. She will be joining us at this table shortly. My boy may be my right hand, but Scully will be sitting at my left.”

“Closest to your heart?” snarled an elder. “I think all that dabbling in alien science has affected your emotions. You dream of grandeur. You’re out of control.”

“On the contrary, I’m more in control than ever. Control of you. Of your family.” 

William coughed, choking on the smoke.

Gibson-Strughold School for the Extraordinarily Gifted

Leaning back in frustration, Override let some glittering beads of sweat trickle down his forehead. He stared at the contrasting black pixels against the color as if all the URLs and fragments of code ignited the gears of his mind. 

Mulder stared intently at Override’s key strokes. Having some rudimentary knowledge of code, he tried to follow as best he could. Mulder held his breath as Override broke through another firewall in the Syndicate’s system. In search of a possible bug, Override combed the three large monitors, his eyes shifting back and forth like he was watching a tennis match. A jungle of algorithms playing a laser show on his glasses. 

Nothing could be heard in Override’s stuffy dorm room but the violent beating of fingers against a keyboard and the increasingly unbearable spin of the CPU cooler fan. In the air, the scent of coffee, leftover pizza and hot electronics was intermingled with tension and uncertainty. Suddenly, Override broke out in a hysterical laughter of triumph. 

“You got in?” Mulder cried in suspense.

“Yes!” Override cried. Mulder held up his hand in a high five and Override curiously returned it. “You want to talk to your friend Langley one last time before we say goodbye to their string of backups?”

Our Lady of Sorrows Hospital

“Dr. Scully, your sister-in-law is in room six,” the nurse said as she walked by. “Folder is in the door.”

She must have been mistaken, but the name on the folder was clear. When Scully walked in, she found Samantha’s clone sitting on the examining table. Her complexion ghastly, her face ashen. 

“Samantha, you’re sick?” Scully exclaimed, surprised, knowing she was one of the first to receive her hemoglobin.

“I started with the flu-like symptoms last night and I have this rash on my chest. A little bit more on my neck,” Samantha explained, her voice weak and raspy.

Samantha strained her neck over to the left so Scully could examine it. Scully frowned. “You should have felt better within hours of the vaccine I administered. Are your children experiencing any symptoms?”

“No.”

“These look like hives..” Scully didn't get to finish her thought when Samantha’s breaths labored, her vocal chords rattled, and she started to wheeze. Scully quickly called the nurse for the epinephrine and gave her a quick shot in the arm. Immediately, her breathing returned to normal. 

“Samantha, deep inhale,” Scully commanded.

Samantha relaxed and turned to Scully with the beginnings of a smile, reached out and grabbed her coat, Samantha’s eyes bulged and her mouth bubbled and foamed. Her body shook in convulsions and she clung to Scully tight as Scully screamed for the nurses. Two nurses and a doctor rushed in, one placing an oxygen mask over her strained face while Scully quickly administered a shot of  benzodiazepine to her thigh. The other nurse hooked up the monitors, Scully updating the doctor on Samantha’s condition. Her heart rate stabilized for a few seconds, then flatlined. 

Thoughts raced through Scully’s head as they worked on Samantha with the defibrillator, administering CPR and another dose of epinephrine straight into her heart. For over an hour they tried to revive her until Scully finally called it. There was nothing more she could do, Samantha, was dead.

Scully made her way out of the room disposing of her gloves, mask and gown. A wave of questions consumed her weary mind. What about her children? Her husband? Clone or not, she was loved by many. What would Mulder’s reaction be to losing a Samantha again? How could she be the one to tell him that she failed to save her? 

She needed to look in his face, feel the warmth of his expressive eyes when she told him. Her cell phone vibrated in her pocket. It was Mulder. “Mulder? Meet me at home, please. There’s something I need to tell you…”


	12. Death Becomes Them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To refresh everyone's memory:
> 
> Kevin, the boy from Revelations, now all grown up, was shot and killed outside a Chick-fil-a inside Scully's car. Kevin was the key to understanding which strands of DNA of Gibson's could be used to make a vaccine against the virus. This is better than using Scully's blood which would give everyone alien DNA, and given that Gibson is completely human, is more likely for someone's body to accept the vaccine.
> 
> Samantha, is the last of the Samantha clones, and she died from the treatment she was given not being effective. She was married to what everyone believes is a Kurt Crawford twin.
> 
> Maggie is Mulder and Scully's daughter and slowly transforming her father into mush.
> 
> Molly, from Founder's Mutation, is dating William. They met at a school created by Gibson for those children that were part of the tests and contain special abilities from alien DNA.
> 
> William, formerly Jackson, formerly William, has an attitude adjustment since being shot in the head in MSIV, but he can still be a jerk sometimes.
> 
> Not a lot happens in this chapter, but I'm almost finished writing the next, so stay tuned...

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/164474329@N02/49920234912/in/dateposted/)

**Farrs Corner, VA**

Mulder’s eyes filled with joy as Maggie shrieked and giggled, holding her arms out wide to try and catch her bright blue ball that bounced over her head as she ran towards it. Not wanting it to get too far away, he gave chase, hearing Maggie’s giggles behind him. With the ball in hand, he positioned himself and waited. Maggie’s brows creased and face tensed as if preparing for his kick. 

Mulder kicked the large ball high into the air and Maggie leaned back to watch it fly. It finally stopped bouncing and went into a roll, the wind aiding the distance it traveled. Mulder ran to gently kick it in another direction giving it a little airtime for flair and because Maggie would clap every time he did. 

“Go get it M,” Mulder said as she giggled and ran in the direction of the ball, watching it land with a soft thud. Breathing hard with his hands at his knees, slightly winded after about twenty minutes of play, Mulder decided to change the rules. 

“I’m going to catch _you_ , M,” he said playfully and Maggie shrieked as she picked up her ball and took off. It was so big her arms barely contained it as she sprinted as fast as her little legs could carry her.

Mulder, impressed by her speed, waited a beat or two before catching up to her, lifting her in his arms and gently falling into a roll on the dry grass. The ball popped out of Maggie’s arms and rolled a few feet away. Too tired to run after it again, Mulder laid on his back with arms spread as Maggie gave chase. The sky was clear as Mulder stared up at it. Acres of blue with white puffs of magic that played and teased with the others, telling stories in sculptures of silken droplets and ice crystals.

Maggie quickly put an end to his dreamy excursion, yelling, “Gonna get you!” before she bounced on his stomach. Mulder tensed his abs to receive the blow, stopping Maggie in flight, doing a sit up and bringing her neck to his lips to give her a wet noisy raspberry. Maggie giggled and scrunched up her whole body, tensing her neck and Mulder brought her into a hug. She giggled some more, in a devilish way that reminded him of Scully, then pressed her lips to his cheek and spit all over it, drool from her laughter dripping onto his chest. “I give one, daddy! I get you!”

Mulder chuckled and brought them both to their backs on the ground. “Yes M, you got me.”

“M, look,” he said, the clouds catching his eye. “You see that, it’s a big fiery dragon up there in the sky!”

Maggie’s eyes bulged, but he didn't know if she understood. He pointed to another cloud. “Look, that one looks like the mommy dragon. That big one looks like the daddy. What do you think that cloud looks like M?”

Maggie stared at the sky so long, Mulder thought she forgot the new game, but finally she exclaimed almost angrily, stiffening her body with emphasis, “The Willy driggun!”

Ah, yes. His son. She did love him. “Yes M, you’re right. That’s the Willy dragon.”

Maggie laughed with her mouth opened wide and shrieked again, bringing her lips this time to his chest, spitting all over his gray shirt as she blew into it with all her might. “Get you gen, daddy!” she giggled.

“Yes, M, you got me again. You got me, always.”

**Our Lady of Sorrows**

Scully was typing up the last of her reports in her office when she was interrupted by a knock. Her body ached and she felt another headache coming on. She couldn’t even remember if she ate at all today. “Come in,” she called out to the other side.

She looked up as the door creaked open, dreading to know what incredible emergency had bestowed the planet. “William!” she said in shock. Her son stood before her, no longer wearing the clothes she last saw him in but instead a tailored cobalt pinstripe shirt and dark flat front slacks. These were not clothes that William would ever purchase himself and that gave her concern. No matter, her son was alive and safe.

Scully rushed from her chair to hug her son, putting a hand to his forehead and then his cheek. “What happened?” she asked as she looked into the oceans that matched her own.

“The black oil had risen… for me. It didn’t listen to the alien, or the ship. They all obeyed me and they are on the ship now. The one that brought me here. My ship. Under my control.” William gave his mother a tight hug. “The other syndicate. They are gone. They are no longer a threat. They made me see what I’ve been all along. More than an experiment or a weapon. I can be a savior. I can protect you.”

Scully bristled at the words and gently shook her head, delicately running her fingers through the hair at his temple. “This is a very dangerous path you’re choosing William. And what about The Smoking Man?” 

“He is with me. He has formed a New World Order. One that we will be a part of. One of peace in a world where we have a choice and don’t have to hunt down the truth or run away from it.”

Scully let go of her son and took a step back, the palm of her hand pressing against her forehead as if it might help her think clearer. “William, what, why are you with him? I know what you’ve done William. All those people…”

William shook his head, his eyes fierce points in her direction. “They were going to die anyway. If not from a plague, then the black oil. Not everyone deserves to be saved, mother.” 

“You deserve to, William.”

Willam paced, his hands automated. “You want me to be like you. You search for the truth, but I create it.”

“What is this really about?” Scully asked, confused as to his direction.

“I told you. The black oil, it listens and it follows me. I have power. With it we could create the peaceful existence we want. You and I. My sister.”

“You want us to leave the planet?”

“We could make a life here, eventually, but one we choose. Not from listening to and chasing ghosts like my father. There’s too much Mulder does not know. You must understand that Mulder’s life is only a fraction of what ours will be. You’re going to place that burden on Maggie to keep him alive?”

A tear streamed down Scully’s cheek. She felt like he had stabbed her with a hundred shards of glass. “We would never expect Maggie to do any of that.”

“But that’s what it will become. How far will you go to keep one man alive?” William demanded.

“That man is your father. Don’t you love him?”

“Yes, but at what cost?” William returned. “Come with me, with Maggie. Let’s make the life we were meant to. Not this. This couldn’t be the life you chose. The life you wanted. I can give you that and I know Mulder would want you to have that.”

“William, I love you, but I will not leave Mulder. I will always find another way.”

“Even if you can only save one of us? You’ll choose him even if Maggie follows me? He’s going to die and you will end up alone.”

Scully furrowed her brow, her eyes becoming slits of disbelief. “The answer will never be to leave Mulder behind. I will always find another way. You need to think hard about your decisions William. I’m sorry all this was put on you. I’m sorry I couldn’t fix any of it, but there is a respect and a trust here. And sometimes, that’s all we have.”

William raked his hair with his right hand. “I’ve got to go. Give you time to think, but mom, a choice will have to be made by you.”

Scully felt as if her heart was in a vice. “William, have you spoken with Molly?”

**Molly’s dormitory at the School for the Extraordinarily Gifted, VA**

Buried in William’s embrace and tender kiss, Molly found herself too caught up in the moment, forgetting all that was going on in the world. 

“Are you all right?” he asked, speaking slowly into her eyes.

The way he gazed at her made her feel wanted and made her insides tingle right into the tips of her fingers. “Yes. I’ve missed you. I heard you were on an aircraft carrier and there was an attack. There were rumors you could be dead.”

William smiled as though that could never happen. “I’m fine. I came to see if you were okay. It feels like we’ve been apart forever.”

Molly hoped it wasn’t true, but his visions of the future most likely meant he knew of the baby. “Have you had any visions, William? About us?”

“I’ve had to focus. I’ve blocked them out,” William said with sincerity, cupping her face. “You must trust me. I am the one to end this war.”

“You put too much of this on yourself.” Molly put her hand on his wrist, massaging the sensitive skin. He left her face to hold her hands. She looked up into his eyes. “William, there is something I need to tell you.”

“Molly, what is it?,” William asked almost in a whisper.

“I- I found something out when you were gone.”

William’s face blanched. “You’re breaking up with me?”

“No, William. Nothing like that.”

“Then what? Why do you look so upset?” He leaned his forehead against hers and spoke in low monotones. “You can tell me.”

Molly swallowed her fears. “William…” She closed her eyes and pushed out the news: “I’m pregnant. We’re going to have a baby.” She searched his eyes. For once, she couldn’t feel his emotion. “I-I know how you must feel.”

William’s jaw dropped, his lips forming an O, her insides shuddered. “Holy shit- Fuck- I mean- I’m sorry- I didn’t mean.” He brought her into a tight hug, burying her under his chin. She could feel his heart beating hard underneath his pressed shirt. “I meant, this… is good. It’s all falling into place now. I mean, before it might have been the last thing I wanted and yeah, well, I am terrified about that, but at the same time… this is good news.” He brushed her hair from her face and gave her a peck on the lips. “No matter what, it’s going to be okay. We’re in this together.”

Molly broke their gaze and dropped her eyes to the floor. “William, just because I’ve decided to have the baby, doesn’t mean you have to be a father. I can raise it on my own.” 

“Molly, no. There’s just so much happening right now, it just hit me by surprise.” 

“Why won’t you tell me about it then? What happened out there William? What is it that is really eating at you?”

Now it was William’s turn to take a step back. “Nothing.”

Molly crossed her arms and felt his internal struggle within her own mind. “Don’t do this, don’t shut me out. Let me help you. How long will it take until you open up to me?”

William took a long deep breath and sent a hand through his hair. “It was a vision. Like the ones I had about the end of the world, but it was about you. And in this vision, you died, with Mulder. I was meant to protect you. My visions end with the death of all my fathers and you. I cannot have that. I think it was because I followed the path of my father instead of my own.”

“It’s a vision, it hasn’t happened yet,” Molly reminded him.

“Maybe my parents are wrong. Have you ever had the thought that maybe we’ve been fighting on the wrong side? That maybe we’ve been looking at it all wrong. If you want what’s best for the whole, sometimes some must suffer for the greater good. The problem is too much talking and a failure to listen.”

“William, what are you talking about? You’re scaring me,” Molly answered. 

William stepped closer again, putting his hands on her shoulders. “There’s no reason to worry, everything will be set right soon. The world will be different, but you will see this war will end the way it was meant to.”

“William, your parents, they told me that you did terrible things. You destroyed space stations full of people, ships.”

“My parents are not focusing on the bigger picture.” 

“They care about you, they want to keep you safe.”

William touched her cheek with his palm. “And what do you want?”

She searched his eyes again, but still felt shut out. “I want you.” 

“And I want you. I don’t want to lose you. I’ve lost so many things in my life and so have you. Molly, listen to me. I am becoming more powerful than even Gibson. I will finally be able to protect you. To keep you from getting sick and dying like the rest.”

“William, this all needs to end. I hate all of this. These abilities, this power, it’s what corrupted my father, what led to him imprisoning our mother and poisoning me and my brother, locking me away and sending my brother out into the world alone. We need to walk away from this while we still can.”

Molly’s stomach tightened. William looked almost angry. “Don’t you see, we don’t have to keep running. I will bring peace to not just this world but all worlds. I am more powerful than anyone in the New World Order and I can overthrow them. Together, we can decide the way things need to be to create peace. To give the _good_ people what they need, deserve. Including Gibson, our friends and our family.”

“I don’t believe that you’re saying this. Your mother told me of your father’s fears and he was right. Your thinking has been clouded.”

William’s dark gaze settled on her face. “Don’t talk to me about my father. He has his own weaknesses.” He turned away from her, leaning his hand on the window frame as he faced it. She could hear his desperation and feel the guarded pain bubbling up inside him. “Don’t leave me the way they left me as a child. You don’t have to die with them.” 

Instead of empathy, Molly felt nothing but anger and hurt. Considering what her childhood had been, William’s was one of royalty. “I don't want to believe what you’re saying. If this is how you feel, then William we can’t be together.”

“Because of my father, Mulder?” William asked, his voice thick with anguish.

“William stop this,” Molly begged. “Don’t you know, I love you.”

His eyes watered, but also burned her insides. “It sounds like you are against me,” he returned.

“You have to make your own decision, and I must make mine. If you go down this path, how can I follow?”

William clenched his fists and shouted, “You will follow and so will my mother. We were meant to bring peace.” His voice softened. “I have to go, but I will be back for you.” 

**Farrs Corner, VA**

The sight when Scully arrived home brought a glow in her chest that she had been missing all day. Mulder had moved the coffee table out of the way and covered the floor in plastic. Him and Maggie were painting on white poster board, using their fingers as brushes. 

“Those are non-toxic paints I’m guessing?” Scully asked as she placed down her briefcase. Mulder lifted himself from the floor without touching anything, walked over to Scully and painted a line down the bridge of her nose, a bright alien green, following up with a slow tender brush of his lips. 

“Of course they are mommy,” he smiled proudly. “We have a future Van Gogh.”

“I don’t know, looks more like Joan Mitchell to me,” Scully said dryly, tossing him a flirtatious grin. 

Mulder looked back at the array of stripes and colors. “Possibly.”

Scully then went on to serious matters. “Mulder, Samantha was admitted to the hospital today.”

The small muscle of Mulder’s jaw popped as it clenched. Scully knew that muscle all too well. “It’s really not my concern, Scully,” he muttered with an edge as sharp as a butcher’s knife.

“I did everything I could to save her, Mulder,” Scully pleaded.

That drew his attention. “What? What happened?”

“I don’t know, exactly. She had received the treatment.”

His eyes flickered and softened. “And she still got sick?

“We’ve seen with Crispr Cas9 and other biotech used to edit genes, sometimes, the site where it didn’t take, the dual RNA-guided DNA endonuclease enzyme remained bound to the DNA strand and prevented the cell from initiating the removal of the unwanted DNA sequence, preventing the cell from initiating the repair process. It makes the biotech unable to go on to make additional cuts in the person’s DNA, limiting its efficiency.”

“So, how did you treat her?”

“Mulder, I wasn’t able to save her.”

He did a double-take in disbelief. “She- She’s dead?”

The picture of Samantha’s body, her final gasps, filled her with an awful sadness. She swallowed hard and heard the dry click in her throat. “Mulder, I’m so sorry, I tried everything I knew how, but we still lost her.”

“She has two kids, a husband.. It’s tragic, but Scully, don’t apologize to me. This isn’t me losing Samantha again. She was a clone. Made in a lab with stolen DNA from my actual sister that they tortured.” 

“Mulder, she carried Samantha’s DNA, you must have some feelings.”

Mulder scowled. “I hardly knew her. Her kids got along with Maggie, and I liked them, but it was never my sister.” The wind whined lonesomely outside and Scully could hear it begging to be answered at the window. It drew a shiver from Scully as if it had reached under the door crack and shook her. 

Mulder picked up Maggie. “Come ‘on M, let’s go get you cleaned up.”

Scully let him go. Watched him fade to black as he reached the top of the stairs, Like a camera zooming out, leaving her feeling small and alone.

*****

The funeral for Samantha was more of a viewing, right before being tossed in the incinerator. Burn the evidence, Mulder thought. Considering her and her husband were both hybrids, clones, or whatever they were, and had no family, there was quite a large crowd of friends. Most struggled to hold back their grief, tears flowing steadily down immobile silent faces. 

Mulder felt numb to it all staring into a casket of what would have been his actual sister had she not have had to carry the sins of the fathers. 

Mulder held Maggie in his arms, close to his chest. He wondered if she could be affected by death or maybe it was a mistake to have her come. His little innocent light of joy. A thought that life might dim her glow grew acrid in his mouth as he swallowed it down.

Scully squeezed his arm, but instead of giving the comfort it was meant to, Mulder only filled with disgust. He felt no kinship with the clone, only pity that she was victim to the scavengers. At least the cremation saved her from the worms and the maggots of a burial. He shuddered at the thought.

“AuntSum sleeping dada,” Maggie said so loud it echoed inside the walls of the church. 

“Yes, aunt Samantha is sleeping M,” Mulder whispered, coming back into the present. “Quiet or you might wake her.” 

Maggie stared at Samantha’s lifeless body for a time, then curled her body into her father’s chest and wailed. Lovingly, he stroked her hair and back. His daughter being in pain overpowered him. Her clarity at such a young age bit at the knot in his stomach. 

Unable to silence his grieving daughter, Mulder ushered passed the people paying their respects and outside to the open air. He breathed in a deep gulp of spring and kept walking, heading to the grotto where there were flowers for Maggie to admire. She loved looking at flowers. After several minutes and Mulder rocking her on a stone bench, she unfurled and got down off her daddy’s lap to smell the array of multi colored azaleas, until a rose bush caught her eye, and then tulips. 

Distracted by his daughter, Mulder hadn’t noticed the man in the dark suit sitting down alongside him until he felt his presence, making the muscles beneath each hair along his arms involuntarily contract. Mulder coughed on the stench of the cigarette as it tarnished the sky.

“It is a quite an offensively bright and cheerful day for a funeral,” commented The Cigarette Smoking Man, CGB Spender, Cancer man, Carl, or whatever else you’d like to call him. Anything, but dad. 

“You must be happy. Another one of your creations, proof of your madness will soon be burned to the ground. Infect and murder the meek so the self rightous can walk the earth. When is satan going to take you back to hell?” Mulder snarled, breathing hot fire through his nostrils in a feeble attempt to keep composure for Maggie’s sake. If this kept up, he’d be on blood pressure medication by the end of the month. Mulder grunted and gripped the rough white cement surface of the bench seat. Of course his mother’s bitch ass sperm donor had to answer the question.

“On the contrary. I already rule over heaven and hell.” CSM raised an eyebrow and tilted his head before another drag. “Satan was offered a seat at the table. As were you.”

“Did you come to gloat now that over 4% of the population has succumbed to the virus, counts rising every day.”

CSM couldn’t help but break into a smirk. “I came to pay my respects. I was her father after all. Her creator. A pity about her children, orphans now.”

That drew Mulder’s interest. Even though he knew he’d only be faced with more half truths he took the bait. It was that or go back to the church of mourners. The former seemed a better proposition at the moment. Either way he would suffer. “Orphans? I thought I saw her husband,” he answered.

“He was caught up in the crossfire of the Dyson Clusters. Jeffrey agreed to look into adopting them. He may learn to enjoy raising children. I had a fondness for it. I see you have developed one as well.” CSM lifted his severely lined chin as if to point at Maggie with it.

Mulder only dug his nails into his palm, but in his mind he could feel the stringy yielding flex of CSM’s cryptic cheek muscles as he struck it with his fist. “You even breathe my daughter's name and I'll shove that cigarette so far down your throat you'll be blowing smoke out your ass.” Mulder kept his voice low, but it contained every bit of the claws behind it. 

CSM smirked and took a long slow drag of his cigarette. “Did Jeffrey ever tell you? Those are Samantha’s children. Your sister, Samantha. Then again, Jeffrey never told you what it was like to grow up with your sister. Those years, living with me, being his sibling instead of yours.”

“I’m not going to sit here and listen to anymore of your lies and mind games. That little girl is the only reason there isn’t another bullet in your chest,” Mulder hissed.

CSM laughed heartily at the thought. “Fox, you do have that flare.” He groaned as he lifted himself off the bench. “I hate to run, but I have business to attend to. Always remember Fox, it doesn’t have to be like this. It’s not too late to sit at the table and not die in the dirt.” CSM watched as Maggie toddled down the walkway after an eager tree frog; a butterfly distracting her as he hopped out of sight. She turned to meet his eyes. “What a beautiful granddaughter,” he said admiringly. 

Maggie squinted into the sun as she looked over at her father. Mulder scooped her up into his arms, but when he turned, CSM was gone.

*

Kevin’s funeral was much different than Samantha’s. There were words from a minister, prayers read, hymns sung, well spoken tributes and memories of his life and loves, a polished cherry stained casket, and a pre-dug hole. 

With a short midday shower, the weather turned as gray and foggy as Mulder’s emotions as he watched the coffin being carried from the church by six strong men, all wearing their darkest suits. It wobbled as they carried it to the grave site and gently placed it down. The service seemed slower than his car in DC rush hour and taking just as many detours. If one more person got up to speak there might have been more people to bury from old age. 

Finally, Kevin’s husband approached the casket, tears falling thickly, the pain stuck in his throat as he said his final words, “Good-bye my love.”

**Farrs Corner, VA**

The clang of Mulder’s keys in the hole of his front door lock made him consider how many doors he now had access to and yet at the same professional lot in life- boxing silhouettes and microscopic organisms. Battling the long held plans of the maniacally impaired. A gaggle of geese in flight honked overhead as Mulder and Scully made their way back inside their home. Luckily the geese chose not to land in the backyard. Mulder wasn’t in the mood for cleaning up anymore of anyone’s shit. 

He transferred the sweaty weight of a Maggie into Scully’s arms. She stirred slightly, but with a tiny snort and some slappy sucking noises on an indiscriminate thumb she had returned to REM. 

After digging the remote from the couch, along with some unbuttered popcorn crumbs and red hair balls, Mulder settled into the classic, It Came From Outerspace. Back before Samantha’s abduction and his parent’s subsequent divorce, his father would take him on rainy days to the Saturday matinee at the $1 classic theater. He recalled them watching this very movie with a large Coca-cola and the crunch of the sunflower seeds, the shells tossed on the floor by both him and his father as his eyes glued to the screen. He dug into the dish of seeds on his table and reminisced, sucking on it’s salty shell before flicking his tongue into its slit. The remains he spit quietly into a red disposable cup. 

The humid scent of lavender and vanilla wafting down the stairs let Mulder know Scully was out of the shower. Soon her perky little steps followed. The couch sunk delicately as she took her natural seat next to him. He embraced the curves of her frame out of the corner of his eye, but waited patiently for her fingertips to grace his own skin with her velvet touch before acknowledging her presence. That was when he broke his eyes away from the screen and stared into her own. She wasted no time joining his lips with hers. The warm wet swipe of her tongue against his and the world faded. He counted to ten to restrain himself and his itchy hands from reminding her why she had that ring on her finger. 

After the third time of attempting to break away to take in her beauty, he finally let go of his control, guiding her to her back, undoing her satin robe to find nothing underneath. Elation brought his facial muscles into a full upright position. “You came down here with intention,” he hummed, fixing her fallen locks.

“Let’s not analyze it, Mulder,” Scully returned, her nails gently scratching the back of his neck, beckoning him back under the spell. He fought hard, his cock thickening underneath his dark slacks. It grew to press against her thigh, the heat making it reach for more. 

He hummed again in approval as she moved her leg to brush against him. 

Lifting his head back and out of reach of her loving lips, he dared to state the obvious, “Something’s bothering you, Scully.”

With a burst of dissatisfied air through her nostrils, she used her elbows to push herself up, grabbing a throw pillow and affixing it behind her. 

Mulder played with his hand at her hip, stroking her soft skin, enjoying how easily it warmed underneath his palm. Her glow seeped into him, burning with brilliant intensity. “Don’t make me wait,” he whispered hotly in her ear, nudging her on. Whatever was eating at her, he knew she needed him to pull it from her.

“All this death, Mulder. I want to feel alive. And you, alive.” She lifted her left brow, “and virile.”

Mulder turned his head in order to give her a side eye. “You fear my death? You’ve been having visions again.” 

Sculy ran the tip of her tongue over her top lip. “No. I would tell you.”

“Talk to me, Scully,” he pleaded. There was no verbal response. Instead, Scully’s hands slowly fumbled with his zipper, as she stretched her neck and took his lips with her own, her tongue searching and entwining with his. 

Scully wanted to silence the thoughts in her head. Kevin. She had failed him. As her fingernails gently, teasingly scraped up his hard length, Mulder groaned, “Jesus Scully,” and lifted up enough to allow her to pull his pants far enough down for his erection to spring free. Scully’s hands and his own stripped his shirt over his head. Their hands aiding and hindering as they ventured here and there leaving fiery embers in their wake.

Scully guarded herself even as she seduced him with her touch. Running her hands over his chest one then the other, one drifted up to cup his jawline, the stubble scraping her palm. He was so beautiful, every part of him. Her eyes scanned the familiar landscape she had committed to memory. Something about his cheekbones, his chin, reminded her of Samantha. Scully’s eyes lost their focus thinking of those last moments of Samantha’s life in the hospital, her eyes pleading for help as she begged for air. Her science could not save her. Once again, she felt the hard bite of failure.

Mulder took Scully’s hand in his own and gently kissed her palm, before clasping it and resting them over his heart. “Scully,” he whispered low, his gaze sought hers, found it and held it steady. “Speak to me. Please.” 

Scully’s thoughts ran wild. What if what William said was true? What if her chip kept her alive long after Mulder? Her soul would never accept the finality of his death, her eyes to never look upon his, to feel their warmth, to see his face, to have his arms embracing her, supporting her with his indomitable will. To never be surrounded and filled by his love was too much for her soul to bear. She knew somewhere deep inside her that when that day came, she would not go on, but die alongside him, her heart unable to beat without his.

She opened her mouth as if to speak, but the words caught in her throat. Instead, she pleaded silently, raising her hips, trusting him to give her what she needed. His hand moved down her body until his fingers found her, hot and wet, slick pillowy satin. A slight adjustment and she felt the blunt head of his cock at her entrance. It called to her insides and they yielded in preparation. With a smooth flex of his hips, he pushed inside. That incredibly full feeling, completeness had returned, burning through her insides as they moved together in heated friction. He caught her glutinous stare, but she couldn’t look away, didn’t want to look away, not even for a moment. What if this time was their last? 

“I’m not leaving you, Scully,” he vowed, reading her fears.

Blinking back unshed tears, her emotions burst free with his momentum. She forced the fire down as he picked up speed, but the more she held back, the sharper the lightning he produced inside her. She felt her bottom lip tremor against his, her lashes soak. The world would certainly crack open and burst to dust without Mulder. She felt his arms grip her tighter. He knew. His thumb came up to push away a tear as he anchored his forehead to hers. She could still feel his pulse inside her even as he halted his stride. In the silence around them she could hear the house moan from the wind. All she could smell was him. Hints of sandalwood and amber patchouli tickling her nose. It caused the hollow space inside her to rip painfully wider. A rumble rose from his chest. “We’ll find a way, Scully.”

It made her tears gush and cascade down her cheeks instead of stifling them, but Mulder leaned in, with a delicate kiss to her top lip, granting that same soft, gentle affection to the bottom, ending with a sensual press, sweet and attentive, covering her entire mouth. 

His arms firmly surrounded her while still filling her insides, the maneuver sent a shockwave from her waist to her chest. Swollen lips met the sensitive spot of her neck and traced down her trachea. Scully writhed and moaned, his cock flexing as she involuntarily gripped around it. Air wheezed from her lungs, barely able to catch her breath. 

“It’s okay to be human, Scully,” he breathed in a whisper, a low growl of affection.

An avalanche of emotions threatened to bury her, but she concentrated on his movement, on her body’s response to him, slick and pulsing. She gripped the boulder of muscle at his shoulder as another wave hit her fiercely. 

Slowing, he studied her face with care. The caution clouded his features, but Scully answered it, raising her thighs further and crossing her ankles behind his ass to subtly urge him on. 

Her right hand dropped over the wide range of his back. The straining tension steamed off his body and the chaos cleared from his stare, replaced with that raw vulnerability that only he could possess. 

Mulder lowered his forehead again to her own. “I love you, Scully,” he murmured against her lips. Her eyes bled more tears, blurring her vision. “and I, you.”

At her words, Mulder moved with a force, a slight burn resonating from the speed of his passion. His mouth locked onto hers, their tongues gliding in their mutual eternal vow. 

Mulder trembled on top of her and she rocked into him in response. Scully’s knees rose to her ribs and Mulder was now so deep inside her there wasn’t a millimeter not filled. God, she loved him. Loved how he could take it all away and give her more than she could bear. His strokes now became slow and careful, sliding in and out, with calculated intent. Pulling out her fears and pushing in a new surgence of hope, of faith. Bliss tingled and taunted inside her nerve endings. 

Their harsh breaths flooded the room and Mulder rolled his hips faster in time with hers, ratcheting them towards the precipice. Soothing heat coursed through her and every cell became hypersensitive to his. 

Her being clung to him with a bone deep need that was rapidly being fulfilled. Mulder sucked at her earlobe and panted into her shell, “I never dreamed it could be this good after so many years.” 

Scully twined her fingers at his nape, “It will always be this way, Mulder.”

The chords in his neck bulged as the couch springs squeaked at the new speed. “I realize that now,” he returned in strained tones.

She felt him on the brink and then with one more deep grind a burst of color stole her sight. A spasm of ecstasy erupted in her core and she clamped around him. Mulder groaned, his sleek rotations, now jerking erratically.

He reached down between them and massaged her overly sensitive needy bundle of nerves above where they joined. An electric charge bolted straight to her toes and the top of her head. A few quick swipes and the explosion was swift and powerful. They became a seething wreckage of wracked limbs and flexing muscles, his warmth spilling inside her while his body covered her in a velvety hot blanket. 

Mulder’s body pressed against her as his face buried in her neck. He laughed and smiled as he shifted his weight partially off of her. Scully combed through his sweaty hair, admiring his well fought grays. Her hand lingered and wandered to the scruff of his cheek. Mulder leaned into her touch with a sigh. 

Just then, Scully’s cell danced along the end table. The lamp aiding to prevent it from bouncing onto the floor. Reaching behind her head, Scully picked it up to answer while Mulder made use of his lips to suck at her left nipple. 

“Scully,” Scully answered at a slightly higher octave as Mulder gave her a tug with his teeth.

“Dana, it’s Skinner. I’ve got the paperwork sorted and signed. We’ll be able to cease all operations at the pharmaceutical plant in the morning. I’m preparing the team now. I need you and Mulder to meet me at headquarters at 8AM.”

Scully looked down at Mulder who met her eyes with a nod. She answered Skinner, “We’ll be there.”

Unphased by the call, Mulder continued his perusal over her bumps and ridges then slid up to face her so their noses might dance. “I have an idea,” he said, skimming his bottom lip over her top, kissing her gently. 

“Which is?” Scully asked, returning his light kisses, stroking his hair and tickling his back.

“What if we shared a shower, some tea, and you and I make good use of the massage oil in your nightstand?”

“Sounds messy, I’ll need another shower after that,” she said, flirting back.

“Or I could just lick it off,” he suggested with a waggle of his brow, then stood, displaying his sinewy body in all its glory for her eyes to feast.

He held out a hand. “Most of all, I’d like to do what I’ve been missing these past days, and share a bed.. with my wife.”

She knew he chose those words carefully, and it sent a burn down deep in her gut where he meant it, before rising up into her chest. She took his hand and let him lead her up the stairs.

As they got to the final steps, Mulder opened up acknowledging that he knew of her concerns. “Scully, I put my trust in you, in your science. That is what will keep me alive. What will keep us all alive. Not a chip or alien DNA or incredible abilities.” He let her take a step ahead of him so they were at eye level when he turned to lock their gaze. “All I need, is just one, Dana Scully.”


	13. Tying Up Loose Ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skinner, Mulder, Scully, Monica, and Doggett are headed to the manufacturing facility where the Purity laden chemicals, part of MK Ultra and all the other projects coming after it including what infected Kitten, are being produced. They have the Assistant Commissioner of Regulatory Affairs with them to shut it down.
> 
> Later in the story, Shira will make an appearance. She's one of my original characters that Mulder befriended while she taught him combat training.
> 
> William, back on the carrier, absorbed the black oil named Andromeda because she had been inside Scully. He had a fear that Andromeda, now knowing all of Scully's stored memories might somehow use it against them and he needed to protect his mother. While he is immune to the black oil virus, Andromeda refuses to lie dormant and continues to talk to William and influence his thoughts and decisions.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/164474329@N02/49968609228/in/dateposted/)

For a surveillance van, the FBI vehicle was quite noisy, stuttering down the rural road like a bobblehead in heat. Skinner drove, the FDA’s Assistant Commissioner of Regulatory Affairs sat shotgun, Monica took the middle row with Scully, and Mulder sat in the back alongside Doggett. 

They arrived at the plant and with the flip of the Assistant Commissioner’s badge and a show of identification, they were through and sitting in a large conference room.

The door opened and a tall man with a long scowl entered the room. Dressed in a violet silk threaded suit with hand sewn buttons and a cashmere tie to match, he exuded wealth. But when he spoke, he tilted his head to look daunting, unfortunately, it created an artificial sheen as the fluorescents bounced off his head, reminding Mulder of a blubbery seal tanning on a rock. 

“Well if it isn’t the cavalcade of clowns,” he snarled, focusing on Mulder. 

“Decided to give up the G-man suit Kersh? Thought you’d be better at selling out as a subcontractor?” Mulder smarted.

“After my short assignment, I decided the private sector would provide more satisfying work. I’m retired from the FBI, Mulder. Something people do when they have 30 consecutive years working. I know you know very little about being employed for any length of time.” Kersh shifted his head and addressed the FDA woman. “Excuse me Assistant Commissioner, but was it necessary to involve the FBI and CIA?”

“Monica Reyes, our CIA agent is here because after our warning letter was issued to cease operations, Monica tracked shipments from China to this location. John Doggett of the DoD is involved only in relation to the chemicals’ exposure to GIs under the guise of biowarfare terrorism. Fox Mulder is the lead FBI agent on the case working alongside Agent Reyes from the domestic end, and Assistant Director Dana Scully and Deputy Director Walter Skinner have decided it was appropriate for them to personally attend this meeting.” The A.C. with a loud slap placed her briefcase onto the table, removing fat folders filled with documents and photographs, transcripts, handing Kersh a Seizure and Injunction letter. “Given the disregard to the warning letter, this case will be concluded in the court system. The company will be held liable. And you are to be placed under arrest at this time. Now would be the best time to contact your counsel.”

“On what grounds?” Kersh steamed.

“As the plant manager, you are responsible for overseeing operations and when the plant continues to run, you are the one to be held accountable.” 

“The shipments had already been released at the time of the warning letter,” Kersh argued. “That’s a mere technicality. What is this? I wouldn’t expect less from Mulder. Trying to find conspiracy at every turn. I could always see Scully’s potential, but you Skinner, how the hell did you get promoted.”

“My suggestion,” Doggett butted in, “is that you keep your mouth shut until your lawyer gets here.”

Mulder stood, his hand on his gun, his eyes on the conference room door.

“Mulder, what is it?” Scully asked, but she heard it too. The scurry of boots in inconsistent patterns, down the hallway, headed in their direction. 

Monica yelled, “Help me!” and pushed the large heavy oak table. The four of them managed to knock it on its side and yank the A.C. down with them. Mulder pulled hard on Kersh’s wrist and Kersh lost his footing, knocking him to the ground at Mulder’s feet. They drew their guns as the door flew open and the barrels of two AR-15s stared down at them. “FBI!” Mulder shouted, but the men with the rifles weren’t phased. 

“This is the DoD. Get up slowly. We’re taking over from here,” the lead man proclaimed. 

“Now wait a minute, who authorized this?” Doggett demanded as he rose from behind the desk and lowered his weapon.

The taller of the two men spoke first, but did not stand down. “I’m afraid that is above our paid grade Sir. We will need you all to follow us.”

Scully looked over at Mulder. He gave Kersh a push towards the door and squinted back at her. That slight move and she knew he thought it was a trap. As they walked, Mulder’s incessant typing into his cell phone piqued Scully’s curiosity. Hopefully, he was requesting backup. Lacking the fire power, they followed the armed men who led them outside past the loading docks and into a hanger. 

“So what is this about?” Doggett asked again to the gunman now talking on his cell. He said a few more vague comments with some code letters behind them before ending the call. “It will only be a few minutes more.”

Time stretched and Scully’s legs ached from standing. She could feel another spell of lightheadedness coming. She felt her body screaming for sleep when the military jeep approached. Out stepped the smoking man, with William at his side. Dressed in another suit, William appeared strange and distant. CSM lit up a smoke almost immediately. You could see the satisfaction paint his cheeks as he took a long slow drag off of his cigarette. A subtle smug smile played at the corners of his lips. “Fox and Dana. How nice of you to bring your friends along. Makes for quite the reunion. Jeffrey is that you cowering in the back?”

Mulder was ignoring CSM, his eyes held William’s instead. Scully could see how Mulder’s face fell, imperceptible to anyone but her, at William’s failure to refuse to play a part or entertain any of these games.

“Let’s go inside, shall we? We have much business to discuss. Plans to be made,” CSM suggested.

“Should we confiscate their weapons, Sir?” asked the lead man.

CSM chuckled and glanced at William. “Their guns hold no threat to us.”

The men with the machine guns waved their barrels towards the entrance and the group begrudgingly obeyed. 

“What you fail to comprehend is the CIA and the FBI are organizations powered by a higher governing body,” CSM explained once they were all seated. “I am now that person and the New World Order is that governing body. Failure to follow command will be considered treason. As we speak, the Directors of the CIA and FBI are being given their new roles and the new hierarchy of command.” 

“You’re dismantling countries? The United States government? Doesn’t seem very plausible,” Monica piped in, a clear edge to her voice.

“The United States government has been leading the charge, along with Germany, Israel, Japan, Russia, India, and Iran. We have been met with much resistance from China, but they will fall in line once their military population has been decimated. Their large holdings are tied to meaningless paper, numbers changed with a blink of an eye on a server. Are you beginning to understand the scope for this planet? Now think bigger and get a glimpse of the entire landscape.” CSM drew on his cigarette until it was almost a complete snake of ash. “Very soon my colleagues will be here, but before we proceed, I’m going to need you to choose.”

Mulder pointed his long index finger hard at CSM. “You think I would sit at the helm with all this blood spilt?”

CSM leaned back, slowly removing a cigarette from his pack, lighting it with the one already in his mouth. He held the cigarette to burn until the first was down to the filter, snuffing it out onto old stationary, only to place the new one between his pursed lips. “I’ve heard your answer Fox. What I haven’t heard is from your dear Scully.”

"What would make you think I would ever consider joining up with you?" Scully said, letting him know she welcomed him as much as a case of syphilis.

"Because I know your son’s weakness. He’s not indestructible. Even Superman had his Kryptonite. Make your choice. Put yourself on the boat. A second strain of the virus will be hitting soon.”

“That is not a choice.”

“You’d choose the death of your son rather than turn away from Mulder?” CSM teased.

“You wouldn’t destroy William. You need him for your plans,” Monica interjected. 

“I did, but now, I have what I needed from him, and with the destruction of the Dyson project, I have all I need. A weapon, eternal life..” He turned his attention back towards Scully. “Of course your daughter would unfortunately suffer a similar fate..”

"Your own granddaughter?" Doggett exclaimed. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

"I will do what is necessary. There are sacrifices for everything.” He savored the feeling of the cigarette between his lips before inhaling and applying his yellow toothed grin at Scully. “We will have time to create more."

Scully held up her hand to halt Mulder, as if creating an invisible wall preventing him from retaliating. This was her fight. “Molly and Maggie? You have surveillance on them?”

“They’re waiting on your compliance. The planes are already in flight preparing to spray DC. What plague shall we bestow today? The earth needs time to reflourish from the cancer that is the human race.”

William ran a hand through his hair. “Mother, you’ll see. This is the best way. Why wouldn’t you want to rule the world?”

Like a herd of Buffalo charging a hyena, the doors to the room flew open, bullets crashed and zipped, the acrid smell of gunpowder enveloping Scully’s nasal cavities. In the blur, Mulder’s friend Shira appeared, beckoning them to follow her, tossing Mulder the automatic rifle strapped to her back. Scully drew her own glock and followed. Through fire and smoke they found their way out into the daylight, guns firing so close it was deafening. Scully felt Mulder’s strong arms around her, pulling her to the other side of the hangar. Overhead crop dusters took off in multitudes, while more military arrived and production workers fled. It was a battlefield and Scully could only fire at any gun barrel turned her direction. 

“Is it true? Has the government been overthrown?” Mulder shouted to Shira over the firestorm.

They were able to duck behind some water storage tanks and Shira explained. “The President is reviewing the bills now. If signed, a sovereign world nation will be formed, under the guise of national security during the viral outbreak.”

Mulder scanned the area exchanging raining gunfire with the militia while Scully and Shira picked off the men one by one. “Where’s ole Smokey!?!” Mulder yelled as Shira handed Scully another gun, ammo, and a blade.

In the distance, Scully could see CSM and William on the runway. “He’s headed for that jet. We’re going to lose him.”

“Not this time,” Mulder shouted, grabbed one of Shira’s automatics and took off running. Shira and Scully covered him, showering an array of bullets into just about every direction. 

“I’m coming for you, you crazy fuck!” Mulder yelled at the top of his lungs as he ran, his stealth legs catching up to them in record speed. As he got within proximity to the plane he began to fire, CSM crouching instinctively with William next to him, Kersh on the opposite side with a few other cronies. 

Bullet holes stitched a jagged path along the side of the plane, making a hollow punching sound through the aluminum, the plexi-windows glistening as they fogged with scraggly cracks. The men surrounded CSM and returned fire, the element of surprise gone, Mulder was a sitting duck. 

Blood flew and a clump of Kesh’s ear hit William square on the cheek, bouncing off only to stick on his neatly pressed tie. The bullet had only grazed Kersh’s head, not enough to penetrate the skull, but enough momentum to send him to his ass on the staircase. Mulder weaved side to side to avoid being hit, reached the fence parallel to the jet just as more men opened fire. 

In a fury of quick thinking, Scully knew with absolute certainty what to do next. She didn’t know how she was able to anticipate their next moves, instinct some might say, but it was something more, too detailed, too specific, it was more like a vision, a brief glimpse into the future and whenever it happened Scully always knew what to do as if something was guiding and directing her actions. That something, Scully now knew, was herself. Her target was the pushback tug (the low profile vehicle that guided the airplane out of the gate and into its current location) and was parked underneath the nose. The slugs from her bullets tore through the body and the gas tank exploded, the tractor’s rear half rose in a cushion of flames, headed in a plume straight for the group at the airplane’s door. It engulfed her in a sudden, irrational fear that William might be harmed. She quickly shook it off. 

Shira caught up to her in time for them to feel the heat from the blowback. Mulder raised an arm to protect himself as he headed directly underneath the aircraft. Within the smoke, Scully could see CSM pull something from his pocket, point it and squeeze a detonator. Shira tugged Scully's shoulder and when she looked to the right saw the door to the nearby storage whine open and suddenly, the air around them was full of unseen buzzing. Bees. One stung Scully’s shoulder, more stung at Shira, gunmen on both sides dropped and rolled, crawling into high grass to get away. 

Mulder, undaunted, wasted no time, sending a short rattle of gunfire towards the plane’s entrance. Blood streamed from the pilots and the gunman’s shoulders, side, and head. The slugs tore most of the face off the co-pilot that bent and fell from the top of the stairwell. The world slowed as Scully saw it, CSM pulled a gun from his holster, pointed and shot at Mulder. She never got to see it pierce Mulder’s skin for she was blinded by a white all-encompassing explosion. 

Then several. One after the other. She had no sight, only sound- wet, hard, pops, like a firecracker in a barrel full of kerosene. Then with the clarity of a psychic, she knew what it was. Skulls cracking and popping from the pressure of their brains inside them. From William’s psychic sonar. The subsequent blowback waa so severe, it knocked Mulder out of the line of fire and onto his back. 

Scully had an immediate moment of clarity, of premonitory terror, that the worst was still ahead, but now brilliant white sparks flicked and fluttered in front of her eyes in the backdrop of a hazy sky. Like strokes of lighting flying horizontal instead of down from the heavens. A moment later, a colossal explosion hammered a hole straight through the center of the sky. White circular lights blotted out the horizon and the trees behind it. Scully could hear the muffled screams of the production employees behind her, drowned by the vast grinding roar of aircraft hovering just beneath the clouds. These were not alien, the white star, and red, white, and blue stripes told her different. This was Charlie’s fleet; performing rolls and other maneuvers, firing on oncoming aircraft in the sky. They must have been a good 500 kilometers out, but it seemed as though they might rain upon them. 

Meanwhile, Mulder was still barrelling his way up the staircase and towards CSM. Kersh ducked inside, scrambling in the plane’s upper compartments until he came across his prize. The first shot he fired at Mulder struck the back of a seat, splintering beige vinyl chips in the air. The next bullets hit the wall and ricocheted, sounding like coins in a tin cup, but none of them hit the intended target. 

“Goddamn Kersh, how did you ever knock up your wife with an aim like that?” Mulder said in a tone of exasperation and relief.

Scully burst into the plane looking for Mulder and firing when she saw the gun in Kersh’s hand; she didn’t think, didn’t warn him to surrender or turn around and face the ground. 

The first slug pierced his shoulder, the second split his jeans and tighty whiteys, and removed the top layer of skin from underneath. Kersh recoiled, tripped, almost went down, caught the arm of the chair and stumbled into the seat staring blankly at the seatbelt sign.

Quickly, Scully removed her cuffs and placed them on Kersh, while screaming at Mulder, “Are you all right?”

“I’m okay,” Mulder shouted back.

“Now that we’re all here,” CSM said, sounding like an MC at a carnival, “May we proceed?” It was crazy, nuts that he was still standing, but there he was, like Joker from Batman.

“I hate to break it to you,” Mulder cooed, “But this bird’s not gonna fly.”

“Not a concern, we have other means,” CSM returned.

Mulder looked out the window to see reality shimmer. His son’s ship. Damn he wanted to go for a joy ride.

This time, Mulder turned to William. “Is this what it has come to? Is this how you save us William? Force us under the control of the black oil?”

The trap between two worlds sprung shut in William’s mind, stuck in place between those he loved and the aliens that showed them the beauty of the other side. Locked in torment, he felt Andromeda, the black oil, coming alive inside him, whispering, seducing his mind to stray and now it was only with the heart his father opened in him, that he mustered the strength to pull his mind back into the confines and not allow andromeda to let it roam. The truth and pain she breathed inside him leaked into the pit of his stomach and resonated in his chest.

William’s face had been tarnished by the smoke of the gunfire, but now white ribbons lined it where tears had cleared their paths. “I can’t save you, Dad. Without my DNA, which you refuse, you will grow old and you will die at a more rapid pace than us. The only way I can protect the people I care about is to be the one who creates the truth.”

The lines creased by Mulder’s eyes and between his brow. His soft monotone returned. “He would kill Molly and your sister without another thought. You know who he is, you know who you are. You can still walk away, William. It’s not too late.”

Mulder’s words rocked his mind, an echo, but one with the power to tear down walls he built high and deep. Andromeda countered, moving his thoughts in foreign ways. William, in fury, shouted back. “I’m not running anymore. I’m not like you. I’m not running the way you ran away from me when I was a baby!”

“No, William,” Scully corrected, “Your father never ran. I sent him away. This is not who you want to be.”

“He wants to be with me,” CSM said, arrogantly placing his hand on William’s shoulder. “He knows what and who is right.” 

“He is _my_ son,” Mulder exclaimed, his voice breaking with emotion.

“Sons grow up to disappoint. I wanted so much for you, and Jeffrey. That’s how this started Fox.”

“The beginning of your madness,” Mulder spat.

“I grew to realize I was not the father of two sons, but the father of the future human race. There were decisions to be made. Choices. You can’t save them all, Fox. They did this to themselves.”

Mulder addressed William. “You have the control now. Everything you know, everything I’ve taught you in this past year…” 

Fireworks and rage, love and frustration, ambition and fear, all of it swirled inside William as he listened to Mulder. An endless tornado with Andromeda at the helm of his emotions. 

“Enough!” CSM commanded, cutting him off. “Dana, get on the ship! William, kill him or I will!”

Scully walked towards the entrance, giving Mulder a final glance. CSM released a bitter laugh at her compliance. 

With her glock still strapped securely in its holster, Scully faked a stumble as she passed by CSM and gripped the knife Shira had given her, veiling it from onlookers. Her brain and synapses snapped into focus. The devil had returned, but would not be spared. She hadn’t felt this determined since her old gun fired on Donnie Pfaster. Her hands were clammy and cold as she removed the blade from the sheath, then sprung to her feet.

Before CSM could see her she had a foot to the back of his knee, her arm around his neck and was bending his body back. She stabbed the sharp stainless steel edge right through his neck. Blood flowed out as she pulled it free, then forced his shaking, screeching, gurgling body to the ground. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Mulder aim and as she fell away from CSM’s body, Mulder sent the bullets into his chest, blood and bone exploding out onto the wall. CSM with the strength that remained lifted his gun to aim it at Mulder, but before he could get a clear shot Scully launched herself on top of him, stabbing the blade through what was left of his heart. CSM groaned, his body jerking, yet he still managed to garble out, “Kill him, William.”

William’s insides twisted like tangled yarn, his conflict reaching its pinnacle. He felt Andromeda’s noose and his eyes’ bulged, his face with a long scowl glowered at Mulder…. Mulder’s face fell in sorrow, and then CSM howled, his head lit up a painful lurid red. His narrow black pupils inside his yellowed eyes widened, his jaw opening to the point it looked unhinged. His skin darkened to ash as if a gargoyle, a gray-black monstrosity. Through CSM’s eyes, Scully could almost see the brain matter liquify, his flesh dripping off of bone, pressure pounding at his temples. His head exploded and with it a whole chain of ruined universes, and a cry of hope for the worlds to come. 

The spray of blood and bits of head fell on them, coating their clothes and face, remnants of a struggle brought to its rightful end.

“Willy Wonka warned him not to chew the gum,” Mulder said into the awkward silence. 

Scully passed him a look as she shook her arms and hands to whisk the blood off their tips, spraying the floor with rich red dots.

“Dana! Mulder!” Monica’s kind voice rang out in a welcomed embrace.

“We’re okay, Monica,” Scully called back.

“What in all that is holy,” Doggett exclaimed as he and Skinner entered the plane.

Shira was close behind assessing the situation and then quickly moving on. “We need to get moving. POTUS will need to be informed before decisions are made concerning the executive order and the bill.”

Doggett pulled Monica over to the side. “You mind if you, Dana, and Shira take care of communicating and presenting what we learned? I want to stay behind with Mulder and Skinner, clean this up and we still haven’t heard back from Jeffrey.”

“John, we’ve got this,” Monica said, giving him a sly smile that felt like a kiss. 

John’s phone began to play and he fished it from his pocket to answer. “Jeff, I thought you were dead.”

“Are you upset I’m not,” Jeff said, sounding as if it might be a serious inquiry. 

“Get over to hanger 4. We’re about to do an old fashioned barn burnin’.”

“John, what are you talking about?” Mulder asked, still wiping the remnants of the headless man slumped in the corner off his clothes. He wondered how much his dry cleaner would charge for removing ‘bits of guy’ stain.

“How do you know he can’t recover from this? Grow another head or sumptin?” John asked the group. “This guy has died more times than Elvis.”

Mulder beamed at John’s comment.

“You like that one, huh?” John smirked back.

Mulder nodded his head, “Yeah.”

“While you guys are contemplating theories of regeneration, I’m going to take Kersh with me into custody,” Scully said, guiding him by his cuffs. 

Doggett placed a hand at Kersh’s chest. “Just tell me why Kersh. You were supposed to be one of the good guys. Why sell out?”

Kersh gritted his teeth. “That’s exactly why Doggett. I wasn’t going to throw away my career, my reputation. You all left and I was holding the ball. I worked hard to get where I’m at and I wasn’t about to say no when they overlooked my indiscretion and asked me to stay on. I risked my life flying over Vietnam. Did I come home to a hero's welcome? Hell no. But I used that experience and eventually broke the glass ceiling and made it up the government ladder. I looked around that table of the shadow government and all I saw were white pale faces staring back at me. It was time for more than George Jefferson to get a piece of the pie. That’s something you could never understand. It wasn’t about losing my integrity, but gaining some. This was owed to me. Bought and paid for by the blood of those before. You think those old white men are going to save us? Our children? We’ll be the first for them to turn into mindless slaves. Mulder is a fool, turning down his spot. I have my reserved seat so I can steer the course of history in our favor.”

“I don’t buy that for a minute Kersh,” Mulder interjected. “You did it for yourself. For power, money…”

“Fuck you, Mulder. You egotistical, self-righteous..” Boom! Kersh fell to his knees, headless, blood squirting from his main artery four feet into the air like a dog peeing on a tree.

Everyone turned to look at William. William shrugged. “Whoops.”

“Doggett, what is left to do here? The Smoking Man is dead,” Mulder observed.

“Are you sure of that? Because I saw a missile obliterate the same mountain he was sitting in. I didn’t think there was a way to come back from that death. Nah, this time we’re going to gather up every last bit of him and we’re going to burn him. Jeffrey agreed. We want the ashes. No one is coming back from the dead this time.”

Ignoring the others, William stepped onto the ship, feeling its lifeforce flow through his veins, yet he was a ghost in his own machine in a world of fragile paper dolls. Time and space self contained in metallic walls. Inside, blackness, in its core, the sacred spark to the universe. William ventured alone into the dark and awakened the beast within. 

Although he could not see, he could feel the black oil slithering around him, seeping and melding into the ship, vibrating with life. He dropped to his knees and expelled Andromeda from his body. She painfully leaked from every crevice and into the ship. She spoke to him with a question. “Now that you have sovereignty, what will you do?”

“I’ve taken from you, the unworthy, the deftness to be god to the human race, so I can surrender it back to the people. I’m going to take the power of this ship, grab the tip of this triangle and flip it. I am now the most powerful, and I did it so I could become the least. I know it is impossible for you to understand, but the answer is, because I am my father’s son. I am human. The prophecy you spoke of has come to its completion. Just didn’t happen the way any of you planned. I’ll always keep you guessing. One could say, in that way, I take after my mother. “Goodbye Andromeda. You’re all going home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of Book 5. Next chapter is the epilogue to this book and serves as an intro to the final fic of the Rooted in Friendship Series, Book 6: All of My Love. This will answer the final questions left in this book, for example, what is happening with Scully and her spells? What was on that paper that Mulder put in his pocket a few chapters ago and what did it mean? They'll go on one final adventure dabbling in some present day conspiracies and it will also give Mulder and Scully time to settle into their relationship and give them the ending they deserve. I will be releasing that in a few days. Thank you all for reading and I hope you've enjoyed the ride.


	14. Epilogue

[](https://www.flickr.com/photos/164474329@N02/49970548908/in/dateposted/)

**Farrs Corner, VA**

“What’s the surprise?” Mulder asked, setting the decanter and glasses on the table as he slumped down in his favorite porch chair, the dog lazily laying at his feet. “I had to dig around, but I found the decanter set you wanted me to set out for you. Someone gave them to us as a shower gift.”

“That would be me,” Jeffrey returned. “This is from our father’s collection. Remy Martin, Louis VIII. It sells on the open market upwards of $40 grand. The man had a cellar like you wouldn’t believe.”

Mulder accepted the gift and a chance to break open one of the old man’s prized possessions. He swirled the whiskey in his glass, breathing in a fragrance that only years in an oak barrel could achieve. Already, the stress of putting the world back together was beginning to fade, turning down the volume of his thoughts. Watching that gentle vortex was hypnotizing. When the liquid settled he brought it to his lips,and let the amber fluid sit in his mouth a while before swallowing. He closed his eyes, dwelling only on the flavor. It burned at his throat and heated his body. Tasted even sweeter knowing who its former owner was and what being able to drink it meant. 

“Is our father really dead? Is it really over, Mulder?” Jeffrey asked, his hands warming his glass watching the afternoon storm roll in.

“I don’t know that it will ever be over, Jeffrey. We just move forward.”

“May I ask,” Jeffrey started, pausing to look at his drink before taking a taste. “What happened to the black oil?” 

“If it wasn’t for William, my guess is they would have used us all as hosts to repopulate Earth with their alien race. William spoke to them and with Charlie’s communications with the Rebels, they were made to understand that they could finally go home.”

Jeffrey took another sip and leaned back, crossing his right leg over his left. “So that’s it? Go back to where you came from after 30,000 years? And they just said okay?”

“They fled here because their world was uninhabitable. They had lost their home, and were willing to wait it out for a foreseeably long time. Now there’s a chance for them to take what they were denied, so I think they did what was to their benefit.” Mulder squinted out at the horizon, his elbows resting at his knees.

“Well, what about your daughter’s ship? If William’s really existed, where is Maggie’s? You realize your son holds the power to all life and extinction. He’s our god in some respects.”

“I believe that is where M comes in. She is the balance to William, and when the time comes, if the time comes, she will be there to maintain that balance.”

Jeffrey looked down at his glass before tossing the contents down his throat and pouring another. “Is Scully feeling any better. You told me she was having spells?”

“She tells me it’s from all the blood she took from herself creating the antidotes and then the added lack of sleep. I can only trust she’ll tell me if something is really wrong.”

Jeffrey curled his lip and squinted back out at the horizon towards the dim city lights. He was making that face that Mulder could only guess was what he looked like as a child after dirtying his diaper. “Mulder, William murdered a lot of people. How does he come back from that? There were innocent people on those ships, in those Dyson clusters.”

“Yes, and no Jeffrey. In a way, he saved them. Those people, unbeknownst to CSM, were dead already. Once X’s daughter and Skinner closed the tear, and access to the other universe, without power, those clusters would soon fall from the sky. Getting sucked out into space with depleting oxygen would have been an extremely painful way to die. William told me he saw this in his visions, so he made the decision to follow CSM’s order.”

Jeffrey now had the dogs attention, who was begging to be scratched and Jeffrey obliged. “That’s a very flimsy platform, Mulder. I’m not going to turn in my nephew, I mean, who would believe it, but he still has a lot of atoning to do.”

Mulder nodded in agreement and poured a little more whiskey into his glass, swirling it around as he let the glass droop by his fingertips. “Jeff, the tests that my sister Samantha underwent, do you know if any of them were like Scully’s? Was her ova extracted too? Did they do that to a thirteen year old child?”

“I’ve uncovered very little of the tests Samantha went through. Mulder, why are you bringing this up now? Is it because I found the digital tape in our father's safe?”

Mulder unraveled a paper from his shirt pocket and showed it to Jeffrey. “Samantha’s social security number and smallpox vaccination tag is on this, and then look at those brackets there. Why are those connected? Are those representative of offspring? It’s not just Samantha. Scully’s info is on there too.”

“We can find those answers. For all their hiding, they kept impeccable records. Especially, since I now have our father’s digital tape. With modern technology, the translation was simple.” Jeffrey tilted his head. “It’s going to mean a trip to California and another walk through the past though. Are you ready for that?”

Without hesitation, Mulder replied, “How soon can we leave?” 

To be Concluded in Book 6: All of My Love

**Author's Note:**

> First and Foremost - thank you for clicking and reading! Love to All!  
> I'm very excited to be writing this portion of the Rooted in Friendship series and I'm grateful to have you along for the ride.
> 
> Artwork and Beta by MS31x129


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